I once found a fluted glass at the foot of a door in a beautiful city where morning sunlight spilled through the Lindens like ghosts lining the streets and I whispered a name that was still unknown to me then but one day poured from your lips to my ears turned in slow motion a … Continue reading I Whispered.
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A rose flowered from the desert and, wearing nothing but a felt lavender bolero and a baize-green bikini, weaved her way across the sand toward the quiet blacktop. Shadows, long and low, leaned into the west; pointing to the distant sierras reminiscent of jaw bones in the early morning sun. She appeared dizzy and confused; … Continue reading Distant Sierras.
