"The flowers in the field are tattooed upon my skin."
And how does one find the pot of gold when the rainbow shrivels itself into grayness?
Grant Laurence, like Steve McQueen, defies gravity and--according to him--has sent us something a bit lighter than his previous entries. I have to (knock knock)... oh. Wait. There is someone at the portcullis at the towers that are A Word with You Press.
Tiffany checked her in box, and I have checked mine: not so easy to do ... here at the towers we are quaffing smoke from wildfires in Washington blowing this way. (the OTHER Washington also blows smoke, but beneath the surface!) I was missing California, and now that I can't see the sun for all the smoke I feel right at home....oh...the boxes are empty...meaning ALL the stories have been posted!
Literati! Once again Grant Laurence has entered a contest with a thoughtful and thought provoking poem. My apologies to all who submit poems: a poem is generally symmetrical, centered on a page as if a bird in flight, wings to the left and right in balance. Our formatting allows only that the work is justifed left on the page. Never-the-less, Grant's words take wings.
Literati. Here is a nice change of pace. Beneath the surface, I envisioned as beneath the surface of the sand or sea, or emotions, or actions. Peeling back those layers. New to our site Grant Laurence has his own metaphor. Could bring tears to your eyes.