A woman who plays with rocks, wood, wire and words, wants to be like her Father, who made extraordinary things out of dirt.
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Please leave a thought or two—whether it is iron sharpening iron or just a nod, we learn from each other.
2 comments:
Is it already another day?!!
I'm all plumb wrung out of words. I am tasting the salt of your poem though. Delicious.
love it. I need to write me a poem!
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