Snowspiration

When the muse strikes, I'm compelled to write poetry; try as I might, I cannot ignore it when it does, nor conjure it automagically.  So, when the iron is hot?  I strike.  When unexpected snow began accumulating, so did a niggling insistence to...

Discovery

Leathered and lined, his face hints a story of life knocked hard.  I think "those incredible blue eyes of his are almost a waste," and immediately I'm ashamed of the thought.  They're perfectly matched pools of turquoise.Of course,...

Oh what a tangled…

This morning I was entangled by silvery threads beaded in dew. Spun and woven and snowflake-unique, patterned and random and each a gossamer masterpiece. Delicate garland adorning iron tree, beauty softening hardened beast. Life-sustaining for one, life-taking for...

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