Whispers of Summer
From a Window The bedroom — my office — window is open, despite the downpour. At this side of the building it mostly flies beyond the eaves, lashing into the orange grove and obscuring all but the nearest hill. Such…
Tag decay
A Work In Progress
…and, no doubt, I’ll get things wrong. Bear with me. At this time of year, in this place, the mountain exhales at night. Her breath is cool and descends to the city below, bringing with it the scent of the…