Hillebrand Steve, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service
My pen lies in the tapping of keys, a rhythmic ictus to my day. The sounds of tapping can fill time. I am not sure that they can fill a soul nor help it to find peace.
The tapping continues for lack of a better path. Perhaps that is a loss. Perhaps not. But the way remains through somehow.
on blistered feet
each small stone
making its presence known
the pain bring an odd sort of peace
the fullness of it
to the small stone I might not have otherwise known
copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt