Below are a collection of the fragments of thought I have gathered together to express my life's journey. The poetry posted here is from the past and the present. I am not the writer that I was yesterday, nor am I the writer I will be tomorrow. Each step takes me somewhere new.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Winter's Morning
Death. Death. Nothing. Then brilliance. This tree so red aflame, a fire to warm the brisk air. Alone it stands in fields of nothing.
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