Never is quiet a moment of nothingness; something always sings
A place to gather words before they get lost.
Never is quiet a moment of nothingness; something always sings
Walking through a grove of bare trees, stripped of jackets, and shivering leaves
Basking in the light of silver from a Wolf Moon, every tree – waiting
Cook another loaf of crusty bread, the scent of baking fills the home
Long after the fire, smoke lingers – a reminder of the world, before
Snowflakes; bits of dust that come rushing in the wind, eluding the brush
for Algot
Our bodies shiver in the freeze before sunrise; huddle in, for warmth
Her entangled thoughts dance to the rhythm of peace, but who's listening?
A dusting at dawn, the monotony of snow settles in, like peace
As geometry, each flake of snow takes it shape, tumbling in pattern