The road led to an old field. There, the wind sifted through glimmering grass, whispering long lost secrets to straw men and bugs. The straw men…
The trees shivered in the wind, shaking off their snow-choked branches. The winds were howling all around the forest, and the sky had begun to…
When in Florence, Italy,
Inflammation of Memory
You are, to me, a legacy,
starlit nights casting silver shadows
on small violet petals
that peeked out to see the sun.