Love & Danger
The bare garden in spring always feels like a stranger’s. Like the last sentence in a book. Its path circles ground I have tended each season of my life. Have I only dreamed that I know how things grow? Then the dreams… Read more →
The bare garden in spring always feels like a stranger’s. Like the last sentence in a book. Its path circles ground I have tended each season of my life. Have I only dreamed that I know how things grow? Then the dreams… Read more →
It feels like whoever lives here never moved in. Like a bare bulb switched on in a vacant back room. Like a portrait of a stranger hung on an otherwise blank box of walls. We all live some days like a body with no head and others like a head with no body. Where do… Read more →