We longed to be on a
high sunny mountain
above narrow valleys
that shelter our minds
during the lonely
Snow Moon night.
Only writing our
poetry and reading
Virginia Woolf
will give comfort until
tomorrow’s warming
new light erases
sad quiet solitude of
warm dark cafes with
frosted windows beyond
now dead luminarias that
once kept hope alive.
Snow fell on our
extended tongues
tasting of a fresh coolness
like from a first sweet kiss.
We are all just babes in the woods.
A deaf person who has been pleasantly stuck in a dimension between dream and reality, where my sign language turns into written poems.
reading, ranting and reviewing
Author / Activist / Healer
In search of spirituality
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Words To Think On
Welcome to a blog about our outdoor experiences.
Poetry written by Katrina Cain
poetry/poem, essays, writing everything I adore or not so:-)
As I navigate through this life ...
Live A Visible Life Whatever Your Health
A Storyteller’s Dream
Literary Pasta, made with aromatic earnestness , served by an overthinking mind.
journeys of the mind and body
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Ed's Pages 
This is beautiful Ed and what a way to culminate in those last lines.
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Thank you for your kind words. They’re greatly appreciated, especially from a poet like you.
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You are kindly welcome. I’m just a lover of scribbling like yourself 🙂
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🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻😎
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🙂
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