I am a ghost dancing in shadows a passing breeze shifting the leaves to a rustling waltz sigh of the wind only the drops of rain are tears of sorrow out of my control the storm passes only to begin again
...Writing stories, pictures... and poems...laundry on the line...all that I have the guts (at the moment) not to write in my journal bleeding it out in brown ink...heart's blood ...blue raspberries on black saucers dripping from the nib of a fountain pen...This is my version of the silent scream. <