Silver sister weaves
orb lantern for souls adrift
in fearful shadows,
Mends silk wings for shattered dreams
so they may find their dreamers.
Standing in front of the fogged-up mirror, I look at my reflection. Slowly, bits of me emerge. Part of my eyes, a fraction of my nose and a crescent of my lips. Clarity is just minutes way. I stand there, albeit, a little nervous, a little reluctant. Read More »
If I close my eyes and invite my past into my present, I see a picture of myself sitting on the kitchen floor as a little girl while I watched my mom cook.Read More »