poems, practice, and process
by Hannah Stephenson
every day i'm cognizant and careful not to catch the 'disease' and in the last two weeks I've spent much time in a quiet space staring at bristling icicles outside my place. the noise i've witnessed has been in the world news and the grey that has envoloped the soul. but the sun is sneaking its fingers through the grey cotton wear and soon a smile shall evince on my face.this i professhave a nice weekend, mi amiga
Are we in the midst of a talking epidemic? I think so, but then again, the birds . . . ???