Kristina Moulaison > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

The sins of a father faithfully handed down to manifold generations.

You tell me.

Living with the knowledge of dying, with grief.

Putting yourself out there.

Too many empty words...

Of flesh, mind, heart... I cannot afford these bits of puckered cloth, each wilted leaf that falls, drifting slights against man, little s..

Prompted by the wind...

Ushered in through swinging doors holding the little boy's hand, into the tentwhere empty promises and veiled threats are mindlessly whisperedby ..

There are many birdhouses in my garden. Each year robins and sparrows settle there making their temporary homes, some within the splint..

Unrest...