Cave of Winter
Cold as fog the soul of the earth descends to wet darkness, taking the color of leaves and smell of grass to the cave of
November 24, 2019
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Cold as fog the soul of the earth descends to wet darkness, taking the color of leaves and smell of grass to the cave of
Down the river canyon water flows on and on from mountain lake through desert rifts of lava and ponderosa pine. Beside the rapids I hear
You can’t judge your life from the floor of the coliseum. You deal with what comes through the iron doors. You hear the cheering, the
Sunlight angles from the south brightening the last autumn leaves, Earth folding in her beauty, sending trees back to root, laying down winter blankets, freshening