
The Geologist
by Willow Orton
When I pick out stones
from the gravel in the mid-day sun,
I choose only the smoothest, or the prettiest,
(or the ones with nails driven through them) Continue reading “The Geologist”
by Willow Orton
When I pick out stones
from the gravel in the mid-day sun,
I choose only the smoothest, or the prettiest,
(or the ones with nails driven through them) Continue reading “The Geologist”
by Willow Orton Continue reading Vision