Mourning
“I know how the coyote in the story feels,” I say with my voice cracking under the truth of it.
“I know how the coyote in the story feels,” I say with my voice cracking under the truth of it.
I wrote and memorized a poem for one of my classes. The poem is supposed to, well,…. you read it
Life and creation follows circular motions and cycles. The seasons perpetuate in a circle. We are born, become youth, adults,