Thursday, May 27, 2010

Solo Flight

The people who are your people leave you. A matted feather, you, unfloating, hollow at the core. Say not a word and stay for the drinks, hope the spirits spread you apart, a plumage to dry on the wind.
at

No comments:

Post a Comment

let's talk about it

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

My short story "I Am War, Mr. Tolstoy" published today

My short story " I Am War, Mr. Tolstoy " was published today on my author's page at Cowboy Jamboree Press.  I pull from some p...