Tony Hwilka > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

Today is a day for writing My fingers itch to begin But I stare hour after hour at the paper occasionally at the pen A silent voice inside ..

Woods in deep mist shallow brook of shimmering silk unweaves over rocks. Cooling breeze - rustling leaves wind chimes in the night.

In the beginning - we are fragile and innocent. As life lives on our hearts grow thick from scars of yesterday.

He who is could never be he who was would never see -- he who's never been a ghost to me.

Tony Hwilka Writing