The sun is slipping down the horizon. An echelon of wild geese gather above. I follow grey wings into the storm. My arms are branches of trees and you are my nourishment, cut me down to a boat. My spine a sturdy keel , my hair unfurled sails. A distant lighthouse my only lamp for […]To get To you
What is this post about? Or where is it from? Because if it’s poetry it’s off to an excellent start!!