Dry Ridge Trail
The old man put aside his sadness to listen to the stories of the stones who told him of the joy below dark green water, of
The old man put aside his sadness to listen to the stories of the stones who told him of the joy below dark green water, of
Huge clouds cover the valley, light disguised behind a veil of gray; energy dropping ominously, the barometer of war and poverty for a once free
The plum tree fires pink fireworks into the gray skies of Febru’ry, lavish petals filling the gnarled trunk with no apology for color so audacious.
Gaia sends her signals from deep within tremors of neglect shaking her wounded body, asking for help in so many ways, yet only drama compels