
Grasses hiss, my gumboots slap
Across the meadow I cut a path
After last night’s damaging storm
Wildflowers open in morning sun
Testing for warmth
In a day just begun

Grasses hiss, my gumboots slap
Across the meadow I cut a path
After last night’s damaging storm
Wildflowers open in morning sun
Testing for warmth
In a day just begun
He lay, entombed in mud and ice and darkness. He’d lain there so long that fine, tough filaments had grown over his limbs, the bridge of his nose, twining around the desiccated, corded column of his neck. He’d pull the blanket higher, cover the chilled vee of his pajama top…but no…too much of an effort. He’d gone too far away. Continue reading
The very first hour before sunrise is the most powerful time of day. Continue reading
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