What you are looking at is my online creative writing journal. This journal, designed to track and trace myself as a poet, welcomes critiques and responses.
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Junkyard 3 week 11
In Highlands, North Carolina, four kids step off a school bus and run for the Presbyterian church next door to the deli I'm sitting at, eating a French Dip. A boy about eight doesn't go with his friends, or meet his mother like a girl in gunmetal boots, but he lugs his backpack down the road to the grocery store to pick up a sandwich before walking home. Another sits on the church fence, swinging his feet.
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