Goldfinch, wren, bluebird dashto the feeder, glut themselveswith seeds. They store their bellieswith food this snowy morning,flakes covering their grazing ground.I relax inside with pen and paper,inviting the muse to strikeher magic wand and burn the pagewith words. So far they hide in mymind’s alphabet. I need a hook to pulla chain of letters into … Continue reading TLC by Helga Kidder