Gypsy heart…. Her eyes, clear blue like the sea, her voice, gentle and sweet. She told me, open the locked doors, wide. We decide if our life and journey is, a prison or… Continue reading
The violence storms ————————————————————————————————————– Whiskey didn’t kill me and war befriended me. Wounded heart that blood-out, had nothing left to lose. Pretty Poet told me in Monterey. California sun, last blessing dear soldier.… Continue reading