By Dianne Moritz Walking through forests of lost years, you dropped small clues, like Hansel’s breadcrumbs, leading the way back. Ravenous, I promptly sweeten harsh words, raw truths, as one would a bitter fruit. We continued down those pot-holed trails, rock strewn paths, muddy lanes, hoping to reignite young, long ago love…. Dianne Moritz's … Continue reading The Hike
