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Blackberries
I am at the side of the trail, eating blackberries just as fast as I can pick them. They stain my fingers red and dissolve in my mouth, this one sweet, that one tart. Thorns tear at my forearms as I reach inside the briars to twist free another berry. The trick...
Cheering the Storm
The evening sky goes gray, the smell of a summer storm hanging in the air the trees ripple in a wind pregnant with humidity night overwhelms evening, wrapping us in a blanket of darkness and the smell of ozone scorching ragged rips of lighting tear apart the black...
August
brittle yellow grass brown dirt showing through desperate for rain
Nightride
This piece first appeared August 2018 in Nr.39 of International Sidecar Traveller The sun has already set when I reach Lost Lake Road. I pass through Dee as the light fades away. The old school house looms at the corner, then it is gone. I turn south,...
Brittle Bright
Very early morning, the sky like back lit plate glass. If a bird hit it just right it might shatter into glittering shards of yellow, orange, blue and pink, revealing the infinite beyond. Brittle Bright was originally published in vol 1, issue 2 of the Syzygy...
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