Wild and crazy, carefree
running with abandonment, full of glee...

Hair the color of golden wheat.
Strands rumpled by the wind blowing...

Balancing on a tightrope, holding onto sanity.
Soundness of mind, judgment, vanity defines...

Saturday night, country girl puttin' on her city...
Short leather skirt, boots shined to the nines...

Lies,
how easily they are spoken...

A need to be touched and caressed,
by loving hands, hugged, kissed, adored...

Based on the quote: Wanna fly, you got to give up...
New beginnings...

A little cedar tree,
hidden among all the others...

Words wielded with surgical precision
through an alcoholic stupor...

Love is like a flower garden,
it must be nourished with kindness...

She sits on the floor by her cedar hope chest,
filled over the years with letters, gifts, photos...

Rivers flow
currents know...