Monday, May 07, 2012

Today the moon was like that...

...like the  soft, wild child soul that gets together bits of sounds and words, tears and sighs from the tips of waves and the crests of skies...and makes it poetry.

Today the moon was like that.

No comments:

A consciousness cubed

Nonya was in a fugue. It was past midnight, and the night hung thick and dark. There was a gentle snowfall outside and her blue-black rose w...