Author Information
Solitary Custom
It's getting colder.
Mother's in the back garden
taking up Lillies and Violets.
It's getting louder.
Father screams in the T.V. room;
thrwoing the remote as if it will help his game.
Its quiet up here.
I flip another card,
burning a gritt while in my room.
Its forming again,
my solitary custom.
Just like it does
when there is no one to talk to.
How' I'd adore to whip some of your gorgeous art works into the purest images of form I see within them while reading! And I mean this with the greatest respect for your very obvious talent and beauty with words