The world turns to smoke, and I,a ghost within it,coat my tongue in heavy honeywith each inhale, savoring,savoring,as the breeze flows through, a-calling.Do you know it,that simple hunger of living?Unfurl and be fed. The Cumberland River, seen from Rolling Mill Hill. Photos taken by author 6/13/2021.
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Ripples
I have been so lonely, and living narrowly within the confines of my walls. I glanced outside today just in time to see the world turn peach, with a soft lavender underbelly. And I am so glad I went walking. The sky is aflame, the river dancing adorned in borrowed glory, the rich green riverbanks … Continue reading Ripples