Sometimes I, myself, forget that it’s a marathon. I gotta say that lately I feel like the guy in the beginning of this video. I
Synapses overloading With each footfall. Fight or flight Bottled so tight And fervently held close. Neither a choice. Trading burdens for bargains And a bruised
You that would become Not knowing what you became Imperfect bookends Impromptu prompt from comments made on one of Gwen’s two amazing poems. I was
Taking his turn at the table, Burning words that bounce and Tumble like whiskey colored dice. He doubles down with doubt against The dealer’s choice.
This week’s prompt for Helen’s Song Lyric Sunday is hearts. There is no grand ballad or deep rock track that I settled on for this
Wulf has been pacing a bit of late. I have been mentally roaming the psychological woods near my den, restlessly padding the moss covered floor