This is what happens when artist living in two very different areas of the US begin to spill out their art without looking at each others. If you see patterns it is because of your life, not our lives.
Friday, October 25, 2013
37
Her tail uncurls like a flag unfurled.
Gray velvet plush to warm the winter night feet.
Her eyes will see me through the longer dark hours.
Sweet suede nose finds the shadows to chase, sweep under the day.
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