All the waves in the worldcrash on canopiesof trees,words lift from their leaves,the air a drenchof citrusand jasmineamid the tumult storm,a slow spring tideof rising seasin sacred landscapes,heard in songs of ghosts. Kim M. Russell (and Brendan) , 29th March 2021 My response to earthweal weekly challenge: Turning Points (Chthulucene Squiggles) Brendan has presented us […]