This isn’t right. This shouldn’t be here. It’s January in Michigan. The ground should be smothered in snow. Sleeping. Instead new life is emerging and I want to tell it to wait, to go back. It isn’t time. At the same time I…
Continue ReadingThe storm drains for my street are at the end of my driveway. The rain current drags all the debris past my home as the water hurries toward falling. But when the water stops, the details remain. Exposed. Vulnerable. I see so much…
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