Winter Rain (to Virginia Woolf) from Lynda McKinney Lambert's book: Star Signs: New and Selected Poems
Recent memories Solitary warnings and time together. Copies? There are no copies. Hair dyed the reddest red. I should make a note And send it to myself. Success and failure are a soup not right in someone else's house. I'll write about what I know Tuck it in a book by Elizabeth Barret Browning. There's no plot There is no conversation as she walked into the ocean to express a story-- avery big house slowly falling apart bare trees celebrate the winter rain. We are going for a walk when the first snow falls. It is impossible to tell about a conflict-- trees, winter's breeze, and survival.
I am the Editor of a book filled with the writings of the lives of 23 physically challenged fiber artists: Artful Alchemy: Physically Challenged Fiber Artists Creating, and another called Pumpkin, Pumpkin: Folklore, History, Planting Care, and Good Eating.
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