The Bird Calls His Presence
It is a first memory. The plaintive call of a Whippoorwill in the night. I’m a small child sitting with my grandparents on their front porch as a gentle wind drifts by carrying the smell of gladiolas...
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Burning red days follow pink-petal nights. Fragrance singing soft lullabies. In memory yearning ruptures, breast bursting open, tears like ash slowly spilling into crimson spoons used for digging up...
View ArticleMy Five Favorite Blogs of 2012
February is a month dedicated to love. The month we seek out a valentine of our very own, a like-soul with whom we can share joy, hope, and happiness. This celebration of love makes February a perfect...
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