shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Adele Evershed

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Imago Dei

Walking to the Saugatuck Falls, climbing over the grey boulders littering the narrowing path the sound of water always seems to be just round the bend...and then it starts to rain. Matching her footfall to the drumming of the drops...then a cloudburst...a whoosh of Canadian geese beat the air and the sound chills her more than the sopping wetness. Divots turn into whipped puddles frothing with glee at the sight of her new white sneakers. So she shelters beneath the branches of a yellowing tulip tree not feeling the cold drops falling down her back. In front of her a monarch butterfly sinks into the mud. She knows she cannot save her...and the rain is full of salt.

the steady drip
of the drip...