Ethereal Underpass

This morning I sensed an elation driving past the cracked, crumbling fields where the earth upturned dark in the purpling light, where crows speckled the treeline, posing as dark little islands atop yellowing leaves. Today I awoke a little bolder— How should the earth be written? As a soft feather, becoming swept up at the first gust? … Continue reading Ethereal Underpass