Again. And again. And again.
The small lompura fell.
“All the others caught on so quickly,” he thought.
But the others were bigger
with larger, less battered wings.
He sat in the wet grass
Defeated,
Aching and sore.
Tears swelled in his eyes.
He did not want to cry-
not while he knew mother watched from the nest above.
But the rest of her young had flown off
Taking flight with ease.
He sh...
My country-bumpkin mother and I were driving through Mississippi on our road trip when we passed a sign that read, “Miss. Gulf Coast (with an arrow pointing in the direction to turn).” My mother states excitedly, “Oh, I wonder who that is this year!” ...