So, I was planning on continuing my series on Discourse Grammar in The Name of the Wind for this post…but unfortunately, work, school, and a very complicated fantasy novel have all conspired against me. That post sadly remains unfinished for tonight.

However, I do have a couple more poems of mine to share with you in the meantime! 😀


Echo

My name never rings back at me

Thoughts never slip past my lips

The only way to climb outside myself

Is to stop your questioning words with a kiss.


seashells on seashore sanibel
Silly Sally Sells Seashells by the Seashore

Seashells

Lie broken by the waxing, waning shore.

She gathers them in a red sack wet with sand and salt.

Another.

One more.

Splintered, patchwork beauty—ribbed shards coalescing,

Makeshift whole.

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