I wrote a haiku one evening, as the husband and I sat inside our empty house, weary, sore, feeding scraps to the dogs and wishing we were anywhere else. Now the house is sold, 21 years of accumulated matter of … Continue reading
I wrote a haiku one evening, as the husband and I sat inside our empty house, weary, sore, feeding scraps to the dogs and wishing we were anywhere else. Now the house is sold, 21 years of accumulated matter of … Continue reading