In the boulevard before crossing to the front steps, I’m stopped in my tracks and breath. On the porch—the wicker loveseat once your aunt’s, blue shirt, beard newly trimmed—I see you clear as day.
Two Flash Essays
Tag: Kirkconnel Flow
In the boulevard before crossing to the front steps, I’m stopped in my tracks and breath. On the porch—the wicker loveseat once your aunt’s, blue shirt, beard newly trimmed—I see you clear as day.
Psaltery & Lyre 