. . . a language delicate and quiet,
that maybe will take root
and maybe not.
words unspun
11″ x 15″
hand stitched
embroidery floss, commercial fabrics from my scrap bin
words from the poem “Terms” by Anne Coray
wind
Pull up a chair why don't you, and let's talk . . .
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why does that look/feel like a prayer flag to me?