The trees began to curl into themselves but first color themselves in the light of Fall colors. The edges began to creep, creep, and creep further in, and every time…
Category: Writing
Scratches on the Matrix
Life does not stop to hold us We only grasp Fingernails etched Against the matrix of continuing energy
Sounds in the night
You must have heard them, haven’t you? The almost, indescribable sounds of night. Not the ones that keep you waiting on your next breath, the ones removed, silent, peacefully exhaling.…
Letting Go
The sweet smell of freedom the chorus of unrehearsed melody Today, I had a day “off” I sifted through “old” writings I sifted through “old” drawings and I threw them…