A Child Was Washed Ashore Dead. A path through the shrine woods. A story I wrote in the sky. Dreamy sound of rain in June. Focused on the soft sound of rain. I was once sweet seven-teen. Let God be the judge of all things. Out for an evening walk. The soundless music of night. Too early for the lotus. 70 Years Ago, the War Ended.

A Bit Here, A Bit There, Until We Reach the End. State arts funding makes a U-Turn! May 20, 2015. Way to go, Massachusetts! Originally posted on Arlington, MA Cultural Council.

تہمینہ درانی نے کبھی سیاست میں ح.

For the past several years we have hosted my husbands family Christmas party at our home. We always try to make it festive and memorable for everyone. This year our theme is a vintage Christmas.

Posted in Lost in Time. The Past Present and Future. Posted by Cody McCullough on August 3, 2015. Posted in Lost in Time.

I glance over at you. With the mouth of a razor. Who knew that knives could smile. The red lamp was still swinging. Trying to catch your shadow. Haze of a melting room. Escaping out of the open window. If only heaven was a place. That we could escape too. On our way out of hell. If only winter could freeze time. Like it turned our hearts cold.

Trump makes Amélie write again. Of November is visible at the not-so-starry sky, coming in to land for a long sleep to metamorphose in a 12. For morning birds like me, at this hour the day already carries a lullaby with it, covered in woolly blankets. The sound of this lullaby should be the clattering of arms touching the asphalt or the mud-caked ground as their soldiers throw them away, today being the bloody 11.