From Tesora
I look at her hands
on my hands
on her stomach.
A baby.
I hope to see
into the future,
but all I see is
the basket of shadows
the lamplight makes
of our fingers.
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From Tesora
I look at her hands
on my hands
on her stomach.
A baby.
I hope to see
into the future,
but all I see is
the basket of shadows
the lamplight makes
of our fingers.
Posted in About Fiction, About My Novels, Poem | 2 Comments »
Wrote a rough draft of my Caribbean story of love and slavery. Took a week off. Re-wrote Chapter 18, edited to the rest. The release date of the beta-read manuscript is tomorrow. Beta readers, start your engines. Enjoy.
Posted in About My Novels | 1 Comment »
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