Muttering of Crows
The crows had been gone for a couple of days. I noticed the bread crumbs hadn’t been eaten and thought they’d lost their taste for
August 30, 2012
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The crows had been gone for a couple of days. I noticed the bread crumbs hadn’t been eaten and thought they’d lost their taste for
There are times in the month when the moon goes soft, her pull relaxed, diminished, leaving the sea to drift in a gentle whirl of
Crows have taken the nearby point, dark shadowy forms against rough hewn rock, reed-like feet an after thought to their coal black feathers. Speaking in
Everything continues as it has until it doesn’t, water flows downhill until it won’t, dinosaurs sleep in ice with green grass in their teeth, fearless
There are ghosts in every land, spirits the 1+1=2 world cannot comprehend, in the places of birth where elders watch our faltering steps. Whispering quiet
It’s enough to be a man, to walk the path of suffering by the light of kindness, giving the gift of oneself however imperfect again