Soulful writing about humans and places
Healing is a feline
treading stealthily around the concrete monoliths
of the neighborhood –
slow and lazy
and clandestine.
A striped tow of light,
sheaves of color falling from the trees,
pigment dripping
from the November
sky
and gathering in little pools
of gold
in your heart
to glitter in the dark
of winter.
My inner mystic is plagued by insomnia and runs entirely on divine grace. The outer shell, however, does occasionally need: jasmine tea, ice cream (preferably salted caramel), good books, music, and new horizons. If you’d like to help keep this blog alive, please choose an amount:
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Writer Between Worlds 