A PASSING MOMENT

          A flock of geese dripped winged shadows on the surface of my arms and face.   A moment of cooling, a passing motion washes darkly through my hair, then slips past, continuing over bushes and onto sides of things the images from heaven spread long throughout the day.    

BEAUTY FOR ASHES

      Flames lick the straw and the suitcases we pack over a lifetime with vulnerable items we adore.   We wonder without speaking, what lasts, what remains the day without perishing?   Building is more than walls, it’s a foundation buried deep; stones for support, the strength that lasts.   Fire burns, water … More BEAUTY FOR ASHES