beneath constant skies Longing for the curve of earth where watermeets sand, rock, creeping dune,where the storms in all their dreadfulglory sweep across the eternal

Loving and Leaving them for 32 years
beneath constant skies Longing for the curve of earth where watermeets sand, rock, creeping dune,where the storms in all their dreadfulglory sweep across the eternal
This month, I’m writing words and posting images relating to the landscape of memory. I hope to write poems most days and also share photos,
We drove by some houses for sale (always house-hunting) and then hit Fogland Beach in Tiverton, RI, on 9 May. It’s a short beach and
“Meanwhile, from the uncertainties of this age, this mad era of ours, we must turn perhaps, to the only certainties –– the things upon which
The night was soft and thick and black and warm as velvet, silky on my skin, smelling of iodine and salt and crepe myrtle and
The night was soft and thick and black and warm as velvet, silky on my skin, smelling of iodine and salt and crepe myrtle and