For a time her dreams were solid like granite.
Polished and determined.
She could map out here choices, one by one.
Her mason jars of hope secured.
At the end of the day, her words could take solace.
They had a place to stay.
like a rock
Posted on by Stitchteller
Published by Stitchteller
Greetings, I live in the citywoods with my loving David and Dear daughter, Bird. I write on this here thing machine to keep my thoughts in words. If you happen upon this little mess and you need to reach me, email works best: noelle.labrousse@gmail.com. Happy trails to you good stranger, and only good things. - Noelle View all posts by Stitchteller
