Peru is calling.
Calling me with her energy;
swirling mists of time.
of never ending green topped mountains.
A history… 79 more words
Jason mates for life, Foster said after calling him to the center of the room. There are very few men I can say that about in here. 865 more words
In July, Foster came to our house on Martha’s Vineyard for lunch. I had been living there most of the summer, puttering around in my garden, planting new flowers, walking on the beach, writing, seeing friends. 636 more words
The muses had me writing poetry about my mother for years. It’s quite a collection. My writing teacher encouraged me to put them together in a book–to bind them into something concrete and send it off into the world to free myself for the next phase of life. 834 more words