How am I?
Let me pick a few ripe fruits
from invisible trees in this garden,
I swear we're standing in right now.
Would you like a tour?
Or, we can sit a bit.
I'll fix you a plate.
…
Poem
Copyright David L White
April 21, 2024, 8:15 AM
Alphabet Consommé, a perpetual broth, simmering with stories we eat, that build our blood and bone. Saturated, steeped, marinated in...
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