Poetry
Clay
Her paw print, laid in clay. A concave piercing, always asking... Never answering.
Poetry
Her paw print, laid in clay. A concave piercing, always asking... Never answering.
Poetry
An overlooked weed. An inconvenient wildflower. A bad man. An unwanted man. The car arrives. So does the heartbeat. So does the doubt. Old friends, most of them. Faces familiar as the sunflower. Some aged, some not. Ten seconds to the garage. It takes a year. Hugs. Small talk. The