leafless birch trees stretch across the line
between the past
and the present.
Memories caught in between
slip through,
blossoming like moonflowers
in the cover of evening.
And there, below,
with time as my halo,
I bay
like a hound
mourning the day
“Night Howl” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
Artwork by Sarah Cruce
The Show Tell Project 