I do not find the words, I find myself, then the words find me.

Fog

Here it comes
Looking like a giant cloud of smoke rolling over the water
Suffocating the mouth of the harbor
Vapor begins to creep over the jagged monstrous rocks
A low long hum from a horn blows its warning
A mysterious mist appears at my door
A salty kiss upon my lips
A tingling spray caresses my skin
A tender dew strokes my hair
A veil of grey forever my home
Fog.

By: Laura Parker

Horse and Train by Alex Colville Wolfville, Nova Scotia.
I am discovering that at the moment I cross the threshold to bare myself in my writing I feel a rush of letting go and after a floating calm.

Stallion

Power she straddles
Beauty moving in passion conquering all
Wind strokes her hair
Free from no escape.

By: Laura Parker