Summer’s End; Autumn Prelude Alisdair L R I Hodgson What should be a scent on the breeze is nothing but a bluebottle on the wing; a moment of abstract connection in an otherwise secluded surrounding with that breeze surrounding me, my skin, hairs on end, drawing out the bumps and chasing the dying heat to … Continue reading Summer Contest Poetry 3rd Place
Academy of the Heart And Mind 