Pigment of crimson explodes dropping from fine hairs in hand Water down water down No rain in sight A blistering sky reveals itself above a wet cotton pavement

WORDS OF LIFE   Sunflower, Sunflower in the yard; Why is poetry so friggin’ hard. Your beauty is inspiring . . . My thoughts perspiring . . . The sun itself has me charred!   Knitting is not something I do… It’s a gift given…