Robert c. Davis Biography

Peering below, oh such a vast distance
Curiosity, the said killer, true in this instance.
Is there more, something after?
...

Depression, a crow amongst the dead branches of an apple tree
Amidst a medow teeming with life.
A young rose plant never having the chance to grow
For born in the cold of winter, far below the trees, no sun.
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Headin' for the top
Wonder when I'll drop
Don't know how to stop
Show now the way
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Steal a glance,
Do I dare?
Though, really
What's the point?
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Tumbling through the air, so brief and unnoticed,
Underappreciated and ignored, left in pristine form
Exposed surfaces rippling as though being pushed inward
Though never separating into two like pieces
...