Through doors ajar in daylight dreaming where scarecrows sentry golden streets
And mountains rise in mute ovation to shear the sky her winter’s fleece
Enters the eve of evocation of hollow visions of bittersweets.
And through these doors walks the mind along narrow paths of winding ways
In search of hope and consolation toward truths that dwell within the gaze
And hide beneath the isolation of weary hearts of wandering shades.
I have long considered myself a poet at heart. But for a county-wide essay contest regarding conservation in the Texas Panhandle, for which I won first prize, and a small number of collaborative works with my brother, Shawn M. Klimek, who is a published writer and poet, I have been previously unpublished. I am the third child of seven, born in Phoenix, Arizona, raised in Texas, served a tour in the US Army in West Germany, worked as a pizza cook and beekeeper's assistant while pursing a college degree, then with a career in California as a county government employee in software development and data management. I am currently retired and residing in the Philippines with my Filipino wife, daughter, and two step-children.