the morning mist reaches out a tendril and touches the tip of tongue: alive
Tag: monostich
wildflowers by the autumn coast reinventing the dance of waves
when field crickets fall silent: night has drawn first blood
existence: aren’t we all just fuel for someone else’s nightmares
fog to earth: trees stand ankle deep in another world
a path made narrow by cat shadows and the ghosts of autumn
wildflowers bloom while you struggle with sleep
a passing pilgrim whispers a prayer to a jar of nameless seeds
all we do is take: when nothing grows give the earth a year to dream
is your heart heavy with dew? whiskey and conversations with the trees might help
