Grandfather’s roses.. My grandfather told me often. We must be like the rose. She sleeps the complete Winter and rebirth yearly stronger and more beautiful. In the hard days of Winter, she is… Continue reading
The wisp/ the kiss, the memory. Youth flies away. A Chapter by Coyote Poetry Chapter two. … Continue reading
On the thread of a word A Poem by Coyote PoetryTalk softly, be kind. Love is tender and soft. Can be broken like a butterfly wings.) On the thread of a word…. … Continue reading