i. raven hair, a sacred crown cascading in thick torrents down the nape of her ... CONTINUED
with a shrug
at the end of our road a rusted metal fence holds a faded "dead end" sign hanging askew. beyond, ... CONTINUED
moon beam
a wooden bowl forgotten on the patio and filled with rainwater reflects a crescent moon ... CONTINUED
Nothing New…
i. Without warning the sky can fall in neat needle-stitched rows, precisely spaced and ... CONTINUED
morning fog
morning fog hangs low over the trail as i run, the faint and familiar path leading me ... CONTINUED
your wildflowers
i. no flowers linger by the garden gate after this ice-cold winter. my gloves still lie in ... CONTINUED
a smile (in passing)
with a lurch the train shudders from the station. moving slowly at first, it picks up ... CONTINUED
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