Cadence

Tarryall

On a Trip to See Fall Leaves, September 2015 (for my husband) So it’s settled then. Some fall day I’ll come back here venture up a granite hill scatter the ashes of you, three golden retrievers, a first wife I never knew at this place so aptly named. I’ll look across to acknowledge the silent

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Gunnison

Gossamer clouds cling to the slate greys and marble of the hills and pines on my alluring mountain. Droplets of rain cling to my tanned skin, blonde hair, and long lashes. My vertebrae shudder as I gaze at this moonstone chapel. Here, I feel small but significant, a fragment of rosy glass in the collective

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