The broken yellow line disappears into the dark ahead. My rear-view mirror— boundless black, trapped in our mother’s womb, each other’s arms. Trapped in
The broken yellow line disappears into the dark ahead. My rear-view mirror— boundless black, trapped in our mother’s womb, each other’s arms. Trapped in
A tumble-rush, whitewater roar, the river races, mad as its name, over cobble and ledge. Kingfisher rattling overhead, I wander a jumble of boulders
