In my car that's taken me far, along miles and miles of tar. I sing to the radio and tap on the wheel, press on the break to bring it to heal. It takes me to work and to play, and sometimes takes me out for the day. I don’t want to change it in … Continue reading In My Car
My Brew
Hand grips the wooden handle. Other angles the glass under the brass spout in anticipation of the nectar that will flow out. Arm pulls down to release the brew then lifts to pull a new. The froth Wells up as it hits the bottom of the glass and then through its self will pass. White … Continue reading My Brew
Rhythm of the Ink 
You must be logged in to post a comment.