My Thistled Thoughts
Poetry // Prose // Personal Passages
“What a phantasmagoria the mind is and meeting-place of dissemblables! At one moment we deplore our birth and state and aspire to an ascetic exaltation; the next we are overcome by the smell of some old garden path and weep to hear the thrushes sing.”
— Virginia Woolf, Orlando: A Biography
Latest from the Blog

#NaPoWriMo 2021 Day 14 : “Noodin (This Wind)”
the one that sweeps in, carrying
the last of the winter spirits home

#NaPoWriMo 2021 Day 13 : “This Castle Is a Charnel House”
the queen of hearts
prepares her death nest

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