These poems were used to communicate with me some thoughts as we discussed life and poetry and were sent to me by my brother. At first, I was not sure of the source of this first one.

“Naked, they walk,

Without any shame

Drawn toward their masters,

Like moths to a flame

With his companions,

Perhaps because he hears

A different drummer.

Let him step to the music he hears,

However, measured or far away.”

by Jeff A. Jones

I asked my brother Jeff how he was doing. He just wrote back, included this poem above, and then sent the poem below as the likely source of his thoughts.

(this communication happened in the 1990s, and then in 2005, my brother passed away)

(this communication happened in the 1990s and then in 2005 my brother passed away)