Month: September 2018

Dry Leaves

Dry leaves on a bed of memories, the way through the woods, footpathsunknown only to us, in dense winding ways of wonder. Vast adrenalin kingdoms were ours, young lives strangely blessed by the writer with the mask, powered naïve non- awareness, before we knew even the shadow of evil. The Trickster’s footsteps echoed even then,

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