Mid-Life Career Change

Within the eight paths

To your own enlightenment —

One’s right livelihood.


Bitter Vintage

I should be warm up in my bed,
Instead I sip on wine.
The whirling spinning in my head,
My thoughts will not go where they’re led,
Desires wasting and unfed
Call out to their kind –
And go unheard, and go unsaid,
And wither on the vine.


January, cruellest month of all,
April’s but a babe to bawl
While January squats, ancient, at the door
Dark, despairing at its core
Ready to pounce on Christmas mice
Ready to punish harmless vice
Forcing us to look long in the mirror
Where our failings could not be clearer
Before we are allowed into the light
We first must pass through January’s night