Cale Young Rice
A dark sail,
Like a wild-goose wing,
Where the sunset was.
The moon soon will silver its sinewy flight
Thro the night watches,
And the far flight
Of those immortal migrants,
The ever-returning stars.
I want to be rich. Rich in love, rich in health, rich in laughter, rich in adventure and rich in knowledge. You?
An exploration of writing and reading
Let Your Eyes Do The Talking...
millie schmidt writes...
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In which I blog about writing a novel while traveling the US in a semi truck