The Tea Ceremony: What Just Might Be Beginning

He wished he could fit its beak over his own rough mouth and not have the seagull betray his knowledge of what to do. The seagull had cried and so he had cried too. Its lips were red and pure— that could be deduced. But what else? What might just be beginning— a cry thatContinue reading “The Tea Ceremony: What Just Might Be Beginning”

The Angel of your Birth

That he was still alive, he never doubted. The heave and push of his pulse remained strong. His eyes were aflame. If he could only laugh, he would fit his eyes inside a balloon, so they could float over the countryside, alive with spirits, and still— still sing to the cathedrals as they languished thereContinue reading “The Angel of your Birth”