A toast to an old friend

Let us toast to the old tree
Picnics in summer shade
A canopy of green
Where the hammock rocked gently
And fall leaves rustled under foot
But now she is gone
Mottled rings tell her age
Hushed secrets ancestral friend
Tree angels are here for you

NL Avery

Photo by Joey Kyber


a very short story…

The first time he peered through the tiny hole, magic was released. He turned the end of the tube and raised it to the light. Without effort, broken pieces of glass, like captured stars, created a prism of colorful patterns. And for just a few moments, he had found peace. Such a simple device, the kaleidoscope, all made from cardboard and shattered dreams.