My dear friend, when our paths last crossed, you had become a Daylily Hands tangled intertwined amidst pine groves and ochre stone’s vines No longer just charcoal rose embers your blossoming glow outshone the twilight I hope he helps you pick up the adulterated ashes.
This is the life, bo-bo, bo-bo-bo. Bohemia! – “Boho Days” tick, tick…BOOM! My Catholic friend sees God in rays of white sunshine parting scrolls of clouds. But as she points out the window of my white Chevy Cruze, I’m more captured by the intricate layers of off-white bridges, the twis
I saw a super blue moon last night. At least, that’s what my mom called it. Astronomy and aerospace and astrology and advanced calculus never held my attention, even as my mom sketched space shuttles with chalk on the concrete next to me and told me the names of airplanes as they [&hellip
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