In anemic autumn,
breath — a sickle sickness prints
and clots with little death:
a tear-trickled lacing
rot in sentenced gloom,
choking on the fags:
doomed to tint with gray
she dreams in stills.
Random observations about writing, photography, travel, and life
Writer of children's literature, short stories and poetry
Let us make an exchange - I provide stories, you enjoy them.
for the not so word shy
reflections, ponderings, daydreams, musings
The Eternal Search to Find One's Self: Flash Fiction and Beyond