But I Heard the Rushes

You didn’t hear the breeze through the rushes—the sifting sound, like sand through your hands— or linger for a breeze to come againto hear them whispering and feel their hushes as calming as the ripples in the creekthat washed around their deeply secret feet. Voices that the towhees heard—and me—once upon a morning, like a… Continue reading But I Heard the Rushes