Their stories and scars, the things they grasp. All rough and worn, but strong. Everyone has them they come in pairs But these ones, are special. I love to watch them in action, I often stare. Or sneak a peak when no one is there. They dance on keys and caress horsehair strings. A kind … Continue reading Grip
I remember one of my favorite things about Shady Hollow was the nights that Laurel gave me a ride home in her little black and silver truck with the Navajo blanket draped over the bench seats. The seats were filled with horse hay and granola bar wrappers. I took these precious times to ask her … Continue reading Learning Soft Hands
Poesie Sans, Souci 