Kernels
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Tanka Prose
Nights in White Satin * It’s not just the music, the minor key plaintive sound or the voice, the anguished cry of loneliness and longing,...
-
oh, this wind! it sweeps me past my gate then spins me home spring clean-up- in the sweat of hard work a settling peace solid gray sky- fors...
3 comments:
such jems
within that first smile linger
memories meld
__ We often see those brush strokes of thoght... they, that enhance
histories images (Imagination) _m
magyar0109@comcast.net
Thank you Doug
You're right about "memories meld" So much of the past is either forgotten or mixed up
Adelaide
Post a Comment