The Huntress’ narrow prow cuts through darkness,
The only sound a plashing single paddle.
Destination known, she’s grateful to see nothing
Below the river’s surface. Continue reading
The Huntress’ narrow prow cuts through darkness,
The only sound a plashing single paddle.
Destination known, she’s grateful to see nothing
Below the river’s surface. Continue reading
“You sure about this, Jimmy?” Thora pulled the white forelock rising from her scalp, wishing. Continue reading
…Bows and trembles still,
But wind punishes, more likely to cut
Than caress and quicken the hopeful green of early months.
Pulsing chlorophyll sparking, breathing deep
The sinewy length of sultry Midsommer. Continue reading
Bundled in yards of heavy cloth and batting, the only signs of life are a red nose and beady eye.
Lamplight softens the tragic scene, but the furnace is out. Continue reading
Shuffle ‘cross the kitchen, sharp drop to hardwood chair.
Looks like no break, no midnight magic to slake my thirst.
Skin crackles painful, radiates heat.
How long has it been? Continue reading
Writing and Stuff by Chris Hall - Storyteller and Accidental Blogger
A.I. Art and Poetry
Independent Publisher of Poetry and Prose
Chel Owens
Live music in St Paul Minnesota
pagan songs & tales
Poets Pub
Writing/Tales + Tails + Culture + Compassion
my views.. my way
Challenging the barriers of the way we define reality
Stories and thoughts about being a queer girl geek in the 21st Century.