whole green leaves eaten away across an expansive canopy of undergrowth. soft wet soil pulled slowly toward the sea as bits of rocky structure show through and red-brown, mossy trunks cling low & climb high to chase the water and the light.
in which, with respect to our name, we are as confused as you are
By William Connolly
William Connolly eats, sleeps, writes and studies (art, religion, other people) in Boston, Massachusetts. He lives in a swamp, wet boots, pretty birds, odd bugs everywhere, with mold like you wouldn't believe.