Tag Archives: machines

The Elbows of Sentries

Nothing is soothing about barbed wire. Brand new it may glisten like the cold heart of steel does but it will never be your fuzzy peach, your sycamore tree. Rusted, it stains your fingers – orange like a sun setting … Continue reading

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of pennywhistles and footfalls

There is dust on the needles of the Jack Pines and the high noon sun glints off little mirrors of Mica adorning the rocks like bling. Cactus dare to bloom here though the snow may come again, and hawks soar … Continue reading

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