Daily Archives: November 27, 2018

She’s found herself in ink and sky

.. , and silent salt. The squawking cry of hungry gulls. The broken praise of trees. She’s on her knees in dark -est hour, bone-tired and waiting. Forgive her, Father (Son, and wholly long-loved ghost); at most, she’s brave. She’s … Continue reading

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Shaky Hands, Sturdy Chalk

.. When the words won’t flow, she smudges tiny poems.   .. In November, we poem.     

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