Wings
I would rise above the moments of descending self-doubt, but so often, alone, I am a bird with no wings. …
I would rise above the moments of descending self-doubt, but so often, alone, I am a bird with no wings. …
An Alternative Ending to Lewis Carroll’s The Walrus and the Carpenter “He was a bold man that first ate an …
This winter lingers late in rime filled dells, old wearied bones and joints creak stiff and sore, glazed frosted panes …
Wind all the way from South Australia rouses and gathers in blackwoods and old redgums, sighing for the parched …
A thousand memories scattered on the table all around, bands who march in uniforms but never make a sound, rivers …
I am adrift in an ocean of silence, sinking beneath each breath whispered over the curvilinear space she fills, leaving …
Once when the world was wizened And I was an upstart slave, shackled to my imagined savvy I fancied myself …
In blackest days, the lore of old Comes beckoning us to the past. Once lost inside, we safely fold Our …