Posted in inspirational, memoir, poetry, Writing for healing

Perfect Blossoms

hope is a yellow blossom
I’m searching for a memory.
What was it that I didn’t understand, a brief tremor
of maroon-colored fear
when childhood was as sweet as an open window with a breezy curtain–
perfect blossoms of springtime.


I'm writing. I haven't been on my blog much, so please forgive the lack of updates. I'm doing art. My life is dedicated to any cause that helps the planet and is good for children and other living beings. Don't get me started on politics because it won't be pretty. Humor helps. Check y'all later.

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