When the River Rises and the Wind Blows High

Endless pale beach, pale river twisting through, tiny human figures in two scant groups When the Wind Blows High

Cora stretched her long neck, beak pecking the fast moving clouds in the pale sky. Twisting, she at last freed herself from her heavy, confining carapace.  It’d been necessary protection against wicked solar radiation, brought on by the forebears of those singing blessings to the thin creek twisting through desert, below. Continue reading “When the River Rises and the Wind Blows High”