A confession

I am guilty of being that friend who delays the whole group by stopping and taking a photo of every rainbow reflection, rain puddle or pretty skyscraper. I both want to be known as the friend who takes good pictures and also not have it assumed that I will take their picture at every outing….

My lines lie

Dented and hollow, Blurry blasts of fresh air fresh from the tree My bones can breathe again My heart howls Drowsy and hot Rain rushes from suns and gushes in glee My tongue can taste again. My eyes hound you Quiet and still Webbing up thoughts and letting down peers My life can start again.