Poetry, essays and letters by Margot Storti-Marron
This is what I’ll miss
The car running through the dark
Windows open, the whoosh of passing cars
The smell of cool dark, end of
summer field, green. The drift
of my mind like my fingers
catching air out the window.
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Life is full of uncertainty. My (our) families journey with uncertainty has been bumpy, mountainous and full of ravines. I have not known th...
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