Effervescent enough… for reticent paths unsung.
Words we mean to say.
Bramble clouds on a spring day.
Long, the travel, for reflection’s whisper.
Searching for answers without having certainty.
It was a sobering pact,
I made when writing…
‘first do no harm.’
Cursive letters…as tall as, an ancient New Hampshire pine.
In the nativity of my naivety…
I could walk many miles hunting for wealth.
Only rocky roads of levity.