Wide stretched wings and deep mud knees….

When those implants came out there came to me the freedom of a child, a release from heaving false things around. I had let a few close friends in, let them support me as I journeyed through, and felt the warm touch of sunlight in a room I’d shut away. Nourished and known, it felt…

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Silicone sorrows and weeping wings….

I’ve had a broken wing. Sometimes gimpy these last 30 years, it’s been cut up to remove tumor and strip lymph nodes. I’ve grieved some things, especially how a swollen pain will insert itself when I paint and write and prune and plant and sometimes just breathe air. I used to imagine the injury a…

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