Finally

  Finally   A road gravel Gray, brown, quiet Leading back to home Dust stirred up by walking   I waited for words to be spoken Maybe the leaves would whisper Or I’d hear through the crunch of gravel I thought, at times, it echoed in the trees, When I...

He Came as a Child

I love the pencil scrawls of a young child. The words are out of proportion, misspelled, and the sentences are incomplete and full of grammar mistakes. But, I love to read and see these early attempts at writing. It is a glimpse into the thoughts of that young child....

He Came as a Child

I love the pencil scrawls of a young child. The words are out of proportion, misspelled, and the sentences are incomplete and full of grammar mistakes. But, I love to read and see these early attempts at writing. It is a glimpse into the thoughts of that young child....