Beth Camp Historical Fiction

Tuesday, April 11, 2023

NaPoWriMo April 11: Beginnings

Sometimes a poem begins with a memory,
looking within; perhaps a half-forgotten word
echoes and connects. We might be out for a walk,
and somehow, just the way the trees lift to the sky,
or a song sparrow hops in the field nearby,
or the touch of your hand on mine,
makes me want to hold this moment longer.


Walking at the beach, Corpus Christi, Texas (2016)




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