My dreams stretch along a certain expanse of highway where space hangs in loops of golden unison where the ghost towns mix with sunflower fields…
My dreams stretch along a certain expanse of highway where space hangs in loops of golden unison where the ghost towns mix with sunflower fields…
The line between gray winter and bright-eyed spring dims today adrift in the chill of feathery fair-weather clouds and the short, shrill songs of rain-soaked…
There was a time when I was in Advanced Science, you wouldn’t believe it now, I know. Science class with Simone Hobbs, her white face…
She walks in beauty or rather she once ran through the scorching farm fields heavy with crops Look at me, she would say swarthy, twiglike,…