The car flies down the road, empty for miles ahead and behind, a sea of green hills rolling out to an unreachable horizon, and with the sun flashing hot on the windshield and the windows down to let the breeze lift my hand in the air like wings caught on a current, I am no longer a daughter or a mother or a woman but one with the wind, free and wild and flush, poised on the edge of something wonderful and terrifying.
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ECSTASY
Poetrysuppose Truth was a woman... * * * A collection of poems & thoughts about life and death and everything in between. * * * Disclaimer: Everything you read here was collected directly from my notes and journals, so please excuse any excess passion or...
