Is it a bird, if it cannot fly?
A Page from my Illustrated Journal
The Door Slams Shut
The door slams shut. They never stay down there for long. Too small, Too low to the ground, The damp seeps, The mold grows, The spiders creep. The door slams shut. Good only for a respite, A breather, A bearings gather. The door slams shut. Moving in or out? Coming or going? The door slams … Continue reading The Door Slams Shut
Fog of Regret
Alone on a Forest Road
Original Photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/eteel/6820477687/in/photostream/