Stories, Yet to be Told

Drove by the old house today. A stranger in waiting, sold the shame. Thus far, looming sadness hung in the earthy frame. In the snow encrusted trail. Further on down a humble gravel road. Sitting on a rocky fence. Composed centuries before, in haste, by a homesteader's plight. I had become slack about what steered … Continue reading Stories, Yet to be Told

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A Woodsy Appeal

I drive these back roads... And, am, reminded of home. Long, desperate, going places that have passed along. Gritty browns with nameless...greens. A picturesque, quaint, scene.   Of course, I have aged like farm-stand cheddar. Tart but tasteful. with a woodsy trace. Though life has sped up. I manage to find a slower pace.   … Continue reading A Woodsy Appeal