my boots are covered in the ashes of bridges burned and the dust of roads less traveled. wisdom calls to me from sacred pages with the reminder to dust off worn out thoughts and tired feet that have traveled too far on scorched earth. and having shaken the ashes from some misguided sentiment or strange… Read More
poem: REMEMBERING
what I remember most is the ash. the way that brilliant blue sky of the morning turned cloudy with the ashes that floated down like the snowflakes of a quiet storm, and drifted into the corners of the windows and doorways. those drifts piled up silently, untouched for days, weeks. everytime I looked out the… Read More