The Garden Flower
The garden flower didn’t pay attention to its own ragged edges but stood tall, proud and unusually beautiful.
where?
My head is humming. Drumming. I am a weed in the wind. Pummeled and blown about, Thoughts of spreading, flying to another….where? And rooting there.
Boundary Line
I wait for the inevitable. One breath and then another. Beat of heart. Thump then thump. The sun rises and morning raised finds evening once
