Pinehurst

Golf townsand and spapines and pubscoddled traditions and legendsaround every corner My Grand-merealways spoke of azaleassparkles in her milky eyesand soft hands arounda pottery cup of chicory coffee another timeanother placeanother south This poem is a second one that I wrote for the photo, with the villanelle being shared on Tupelo Press’ website for thisContinue reading “Pinehurst”