I was sewing together some words one day, marvelling at how unimaginative I could be when it came to words which would describe a scene. Suddenly, someone came in with a poem and said it was not perfect, said it was not meant to be read by the world.
I looked at the words and kept looking at them till I could watch each one just the way they were meant to be seen.
So I agreed to what she said: it was not meant to be read by the world, it was meant to be SEEN. I took my pen then, and proceeded to show the world what I saw.
Continue reading “The Flight”