Mountain Air
This mountain air, blows with puffy cheeks and plays with the hem of my shirt. Air, rushing through the trees,...
This mountain air, blows with puffy cheeks and plays with the hem of my shirt. Air, rushing through the trees,...
You can drop your roots anytime, anywhere. Sitting under a tree, surely, but also at the stoplight. At your desk,...
Peach trees at the Meditation Center: each, either with a rose planted so close it coils fondly along a sturdy...
When I was young, they told me the bread became a man. It was a good trick, they called it...