Beech roots mesh beneath my feet;skinny sinews penetrate my soles.Trunks divide in branches ribbing skyward;springtime leaves deck out in vaults …
Not in a Month of Sundays by Malachi Kelly
Not in a month of Sundays would I have thought of life like this, Where Nature’s beauty wakes you each …
NOTES ON A PANDEMIC by Mariana Mcdonald
1. Days Days are topsy-turvy, nights perpetual. Sleep’s a fugitive. The mantra of not if but when clutches at our …
Dear Lost Friend. A Poem by Celine Hawthorne
Beautiful ceremony , Spiritually and visually. Tears abound, Kind words all round. Peacefully after a short illness, I read. A …