By: Jennifer Richardson Holt It was disconcertingly dark when I took my daughter to school on Friday morning. The beginning of the week had produced some breathtaking sunrises. There were pink glowing wisps of clouds that changed to gold melting into the bright glow of day. I was saddened that my drive took me westContinue reading “It Waits for No Man 11/6/2022”
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Prose and Possibilities 