THIRD DAY Sand speaks to starlight; water caressesthe stone; wind steers past its gibbous moon. Below the snaking turns of Dogtooth BendI camp in a cottonwood grovewhere
THIRD DAY Sand speaks to starlight; water caressesthe stone; wind steers past its gibbous moon. Below the snaking turns of Dogtooth BendI camp in a cottonwood grovewhere
Grand Little Things 