Elderly woman standing barefoot near a wooden loom, viewing a blue and gold patterned rug hanging on the wall in a dimly lit workshop

Where Softly the Seasons Turn

Today’s poem uses a new term I’ve wanted to try for a while. My goal is to see if this stylistic experiment works or fails. Poets have often used special names for God or Nature. I wanted a term that fits my writing style. I need a guide for the reader, showing them who or … Continue reading Where Softly the Seasons Turn