I step to the edge Staring into the abyss Shouts from below, “Jump!”
Looking back, Widow Winslow wasn’t a very convincing recluse. She’d only come into town Saturday mornings when she’d drive her
A still reflection Scrying fortunes from its depths What futures divined?
Ancient time passage History framed brick by brick If these walls could talk Photo taken at Fort Pickens State Park,
The once bright yellow rocking horse seat was all that remained of the playground. Lyle was surprised the useless relic, battered
Deadly rare flower Hunter becomes the hunted Must eat to survive The Sarracenia leucophylla (crimson pitcher plant), a carnivorous flower
You’re never too old For pastel, pink galoshes And puddle jumping