Common Ground

I go down burrowing, a badger unearthing for the sake of it, a sort of mining known only to the creature and sometimes the human heart, the latter less willing to surrender its complexities; On the surface doves appear to assert territoriality, the movement stitched...

Flux

I never wanted famous, though it was proffered more than once; did not want to grow up in public, recorded on the cortices of admirers, on film or stage, no; talent may, through its own merits, ease its way into hearts to pause or to remain; In the shadows or in the...

Scoured

There are those who shun the wind, though I am not one of them. A desert dweller by birth, living in a subtropical environment has me gasping all too often for air, movement of energy, a yearning for fresh.  Tonight we drove to the end of the road as is often the case...