Start of winter’s white lament
Baybridge in the Rain
A forge-bright sky cools to ash grey, as people seek shelter from pouring rain
Breakfast Bars
Three NutriGrain Soft Baked Breakfast Bars sat impishly by my pencil sharpener, feigning death as they remind me I pilfered them
Joy Spill
Wild and wounded but joy everywhere, beautiful and visceral, gut-wrenching, blinding JOY
The Rustic
They say that those who disappear in these woods are claimed by the gods; their souls are ancient, rare, and that makes them special.