Another warm fall day in Alabama. Sitting and swaying, listening to the birds, I think of a world less giving then my own.
A world where I live here because of the conditions, not only coincidentally.
The warm air and cool breeze. The ease of winter here. Nothing more than ice, a glass sheen on the stripped back earth.
Winter means mud, and the sharpened branches, harsh without their dress of green during the warmer months.
Hey so apparently the Trump administration is trying to include Natives in his unconstitutional birthright citizenship end order. They haven't been non citizens since 1924. He trying to fucking reverse the Snyder Act.
A lot, if not all, of his plans impact natives in some way. Remember to keep advocating for native rights.
Louise Glück, from "The Garden" in Poems 1962-2012
Photo and poem are mine.
An angel falling from heaven.
Reference was from Pinterest.
“I was an angel, but they made me leave.”
this is the most real thing ever
my friend found a tooth on the ground and DIDNT pick it up to give to me… never contacting her again