Unmoored, drifting,
anchors aweigh,
much like lifting
my wrinkled feet
from the silty floor,
where the world
begged me, Continue reading “Not Gold, But Pearls”
Unmoored, drifting,
anchors aweigh,
much like lifting
my wrinkled feet
from the silty floor,
where the world
begged me, Continue reading “Not Gold, But Pearls” →