My Poetry and Prose Blogology
The Last Stand
“there comes a time in our life expeditions
when we must stand up for sheer goodness…”
“there comes a time in our life expeditions
when we must stand up for sheer goodness…”
"above spilled bones of dead trees
she still—takes my breath away..."
“I bled crimson mist
when my heart spun to ruby…”
“I climb my speckled tomes of granite—yet
I have never been that good at emojis”