TOWERS AND TOADSTOOLS Threshed inside the rushes Pressed together, sold Buried in the brier patch Tangled, towering, old Flowers against...

I just listen to the wind These old and tired branches Calling through the trees A whispering in my bones I call that quiet cold my home That soft but bitter Winter breeze That silent Earth Lying, still, beneath Peaceful, unperturbed Belly fat and distended Full of tired words Exhaustion as I'm bended Mouth all full of briers Words all caught with barbs Wishing to be lovers Praying despite my tongue Mistakes that drown in tidal pools Washing away with bitter water With revere

Why do we continue fighting? Life seems to want to find a way, to preserve itself, to keep us going even when we feel like giving up. Is...