The little bridge over hover creek
(2020)
01
Equinox. I stand on the little bridge over Hover Creek and face north (where the waters come from), then south (where they go). I am without complaint, if not care. Cancer has claimed my spine, my Triassic spine, I call it, for it has been with me forever, like you, my pre-historical friend, my light-bearer, and it is slowly turning to stone.… Read the rest