Will you be the sun or the moon? I asked her. She said, I’ll be the moon. Why? I asked, the light does not belong to the moon. I’ll still be the moon, she said. To borrow from elsewhere and light the dark, that is the moon. I would always want to be the moon.…Read More
Visiting the Ducks | Poetry
A body of water
and a family of ducks.
The Sound of Autumn
You can smell the spring, feel the summer, hear the autumn and feel the winter. The first thing on my mind when I hear the word autumn, is surely the sound of the leaves, walking over them; the crisp dry yellow leaves. The sound as I step over them in the backyard. Autumn’s yellow leaves…Read More