Snapshot Stories – New York 1957

Originally posted on IshaiyaFreshlySqueezed:
I sat on a park bench and watched a pigeon peck the ground at my feet. The sky was a heavy white. The branches of the trees were bare, save for the evergreens that pinched the air with their resinous aroma. I sat with my hands in my lap, fingers interlaced;…

Thorn – (IntPoWriMo – Day 13)

The Thorn Pluck me a rose from thorn’s embrace, And deliver this heart as you would in love, To a child; a grace sublime. No shadow of mortal masquerade, In thy name a question to an answer told. To be so bold as to pluck me free; A prickle of dew upon nature’s hand That […]

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