Thomas W. P. Slatin

a small windy road makes its way through a small town named Stamford, New York

Enjoy what you have now; we may never be here again. Remember this day well it only happens just this once. This day like any other day; 24 hours that pass you by. Remember this day well we may never return.

I am a webmaster; harder for me to believe than for you. Long and lonely hours in front of my computer. Writing Java, HTML, even E-Mail, chat rooms, hyperlinks and more. Such a technological and ever advancing job it is; working at society’s golden age of computer technology. The net so powerful even I succumb…

see my reflection in the water full of fish they see my reflection as well

A waterfall surrounded by large rocks; who would dare to venture too close? Only to be swept away by the dangerous yet beautiful fury of rushing waters. I myself venture here. Alas, I merely sit among the rocks just beyond the waters reach. So close to the rushing waters yet totally safe among the rocks.…

a walk through the woods along this old rocky road trees stand on both sides

I gaze into the endless field of grass. At tall mountains covered with green lush trees. I see rivers, ponds, and fields all within my back yard waiting for me to explore. Alas, I cannot. They’re building a freeway right through my yard.

We’re so far away, but I am here to stay. It’s the virtual me. We’re always on-line at just the right time. We sit and we chat; typed messages lacking emotion travel this way and that. We shall never call or meet, send only E-Mail from our seats. How I long to kiss your lips…

If life were but a tree the world would finally be as one. Past generations leave their legendary mark among the branches; leaves as people, branches united and known to everyone. Bark surrounds their tiny world; respected and cherished by everyone. Eventually, people would die and fall away; their proud existence known to everyone.