Blackberries

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

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

August

brittle yellow grass brown dirt showing through desperate for rain