Today, I overhead
a young man tell a woman,
“I am a wizard.”
Hmm. Perhaps,
he is the wizard
of la boulangerie.
Mark Me
I am
soon to become
an old Fey
of the woods, Continue reading “Mark Me”
Behind the Wicket
Lost ‘twixt
clacking and clicks,
bound, affixed,
behind the wicket,
slither and hiss,
lurking, the wicked
shudder in their bliss. Continue reading “Behind the Wicket”