poetry
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A Name
I’ve never really liked my name. I don’t hate it, but I don’t love it.
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On the Eighth Day of Blogmas: Just Like the Snow I Used to Know
But the delight of seeing that wondrous powder fall from the sky … and the world outside completely untouched by footprints or pawprints or car tracks just yet … it made me feel as though the snow existed entirely for me.
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On the Third Day of Blogmas: Why Won’t I Try Substack?
It’s not about competitiveness. It’s about feeling overwhelmed.
That American Girl 