A change of pace.


It’s a dream

A soar

a sore

How can I have something I have never seen or known?

When my toes haven’t dug in deep?

When the hairs on my arms have not stood up?

But still I know myself, standing there. The grass a color in between the earth and the green I’ve known on the other side.

the wind blowing, the hill rolling, the sky bleeding.

bleeding its truth


I wrote completely overwhelmed with a desire for more. Really I wanted freedom. The freedom you feel when you stand on top of a hill, the wind blowing through you and with you.

I still want this freedom.

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