Jane Doe with her fatal flaw

In memory of Jane

whose fatal flaw

—was to be, whirled

into a world

too young.

Recent Posts

A drop loses herself in the puddle, The river's spirit is engulfed Ushered downhill from high To low altitudes all sentient sentiment...

I When told a twisted flute cannot carry A dulcet tune, that we are all hollow now, try as we might To ignore distant calling chimes....

Humus weighs heavy Swaddled in thick mire mantle Sleep now, nimble bud Among writhing roots forlorn Tall shall sprout Sun's blade reborn