The wind blew high and leaves fell from the trees by the bushel. It caressed, it cajoled, it laughed, howled and blew harder. First cold, then warm, then chilling, then calming. Is it raining says I peering through the opened door.
No Janet said smiling it’s just my son and I who had called earlier upon the ancestors realized immediately that the spirit of her son had joined us in our ritual space. And I hugged her as she was warmed by his presence.
Early Works is an exhaustive compilation of the first decade of the poems and stories of Z.B.McClure. Included are family photos, rare personal photos, photos of 1st draft manuscripts of many of his early poems. Also some biography and memoir materia
Healthy Happy Creative Day, Poet!
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
Take care,
Sherry
No one knows what the beauty of the leaves hold..
Then again from this poem...maybe YOU do.
This touched me...EXCELLENT
~Linda