My poem.

A beautiful violin should never be discarded.

Skye awakens to find herself someplace she should not be. Is it a dream, vision or real?

The attic is always a place of secrets and mystery.

Gesture of romantic finality.

Romantic memories of times past.
My entry for the “feather and velvet glove” writer’s challenge.

As I climbed into the attic, I saw you sitting there.

This is the bottom…though I fought for many years after writing this. Addiction to drugs left me with nothing but words and humility.

Time bleeds away, a bit at a time.

About my home and going to another.