Soulful writing about humans and places
a man, a dog and the pond at the bottom of the levee:
brown reeds, an egret and a few muted gulls, scattered.
winter lurking.
a man stopping, crouching, gazing into the distance,
holding on to that taut leash
for dear life.
his eyes across the water
weighed down
heavy
whole
with the solitude of the world.
in my headphones,
Adele belting out:
Remedy.
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 