Over hill and dale
shadows
slash
bottle green bushes.
Bits of fur
matted and stained
flutter
in the brisk
morning air and
descend
in a grassy knoll
fragrant
with
lily of the valley
soaked
in
rosemary
and
thyme.
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The Dark Path Brightens
It occurs to me That I require an ideal To summit these peaks. Something more than a patch. My tenacity shouts above my perception Shooting ...
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How do you say goodbye recall the fragile faith in the eyes of a starfish before tossed ashore by the careless surf? Or crack the ...
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