Tuesday, October 23, 2018

Bottoms Up. by Graye Meadows




Just as her poetry can prove dark, Graye has a black thumb...and can’t  keep plants alive.  But, ever the dreamer, she meanders in her heart, penning petals on page, hoping to create a meadow. She is thrilled and grateful to have works published at both The Rye Whiskey Review and The Abyss



No comments:

Post a Comment

Misinterpretated By April Ridge

The things heard in a loud bar when the song changes… a lull in the roar of sound, voices that were drowned in the loudness now underlined b...