Poetry — Perpetually Past Due

A re-blog. It’s the warmth of a summer sun pressing through and pouring between the gaps of illuminated tree leaves; it’s the peaceful, calming noise of pouring rain that trickles through gutter and pipe; it is imagery conjured into something more real than the spell of any grey-bearded sorcerer or maiden, mother, and crone. AttemptsContinue reading “Poetry — Perpetually Past Due”