Stretching along the back boundary of the family farm was the bush, a woodlot of mixed trees and wildlife. Widthwise, it wasn’t a long distance until you hit the highway, but lengthwise, one could imagine being in a forest. It had been an unseasonably mild winter with more rain than snow, though still enough to …
Monthly Archives: January 2016
Midnight Butterfly
Perhaps a shadow of my former imagination Flickering, fluttering in the corner of my (heart?) eye Happiness is like the butterfly Sinking to the bottom of the kill jar Spread, sprayed, and pinned to velvet Mounted for the world to see for ages Or Is reality like the butterfly Floating, flying through winds across the …
Psychoterrierpy 