an agel falls a women dies a new life is born
Here's a bit about me. Poetry was my first venue. Now I fancy myself a writer when I probably just love to fill my mind and crunch into the screen stories I dream.
Not long ago the trees were bare. I watched in our back yard leaves turn colors, in their adieu. Leaving branches naked, like sticks from the arms of a huge trunk. In spring buds appeared that sprouted leaves. Now their arms crowd with foliage and a mocking bird sings my mind into how it is when words leave me barren to flourish again.
I am working on the rewrite of my sci/tech/thriller in which a celestial falls, in love with a human. After she dies, he recreates her for generations until at last, from one, he must be born before the world ends.