• by Robert P. Barsanti • We felt the storm slip onto us from the East. The stars winked out the night before and the wind turned. By the gray light of the morning, the sky had grown hair and the wind had grown wet. Under the sound of words […]
• by Robert P. Barsanti • We felt the storm slip onto us from the East. The stars winked out the night before and the wind turned. By the gray light of the morning, the sky had grown hair and the wind had grown wet. Under the sound of words […]