The rain strikes a chord. Not in the same way it strums you like a harp. It beats me like a drum in a tribal ceremony. Back home, ...
Showing posts with label the South. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the South. Show all posts
childhood: green
I lived in a city of no fences, where the trees curtained each house from the next, drowning out the sound of pens that scraped against div...
not crayons. color.
I have memories of things I don't remember. The grass in Utah is colder than most states. Like sucking the clean, white ends ...
humans, part 2
3 days of staring at this bright white, electric paper. 3 days, 3 million-something thoughts, and nothing could satisfy the empty page tha...
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