we drive past . me clicking way . each shot a blur . I smile at the metaphor
when life becomes a blurry roller coaster ride with twists and turns it is reassuring to have a place to be still .. to slow down .. small stones . paper . words from table to shop
there are moments . words line up side by side . open . reaching together often they drift quietly off to the side . gnarled in many directions with almost three years in this space my words embrace both swirling among the branches of life's season