I promised to be more deliberate this year. I am the same fly-by-the-seat of your pants, wishy-washy, gal of yesterday. My posts are erratic. My feelings ride the rails.

I am a blundering mess. I walk through fire, over pebbles, move stone hedges, fly over grassy fields, wander lonely roads, dig graves, wade in muck, climb thorny trees, wallow in sorrow, and then. And only then begin to see.

Musings Poetry

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