I can hear her. On the nights The wind screams through the trees And the waves crash In rhythmic chaos On the shore. When night is darkest And bejeweled skies Tell no secrets.
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cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
I can hear her. On the nights The wind screams through the trees And the waves crash In rhythmic chaos On the shore. When night is darkest And bejeweled skies Tell no secrets.
Read MoreFebruary hits in muted grey Paired with sunless mornings. We beg for reds and pinks In heart-shaped clouds And warm winter drinks.
Read MoreMore grey splashes against dark curls. Cheeks sag and skin spots darken. Aging creeps in with Crow’s feet around my eyes.
Read MoreBelonging In the balance. When you stand On a tight rope, You belong nowhere. Not the right. Not to the left. Certainly not the middle. To be accepted. To be loved.
Read MoreDear Queen, I see you in your garden there In your yard, in the back. Tucked. and hidden. Where the chickens roam free And the dirt brings you close To the grief in your eyes. Broken and bruised. Battered and beat.
Read MoreWild woman dances in the trees, Her feet caked with mud. Hair in knots, She twirls and yells The songs of her ancient soul.
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