18 Oct 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments

10/18 Cefalu, Italy

The storm passed through very quickly.  When the sun rose I gathered up my things and without even saying goodbye I headed down the volcano like I was escaping.  I had just come out of a sulfur cloud, was coated in mud and must have smelled like shit.  I sure felt like shit.  When I finally made it back down to the residence below they too were cover in mud.  I’m glad somebody could laugh at this.  The first two people I saw were in the process of shoveling themselves out of the mud.   (more…)

18 Oct 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 075 There you are the only rose

There you are the only rose, living all alone, all those lovely companions, either faded of have flown
like you at times I follow, when friendships all have frayed, steppin out into the light but dwell at home in shade

Many times, that heart lay withered, when fond friends choice to go but with each painful thought, that’s conquered
another bud begins to grow.