A choir of seedlings arching their necks out of rotted tree stumps, sucking life out of death. I am the forest's conscience, but remember, the forest eats itself and lives forever.
Related Authors: Barbara Kingsolver | The Poisonwood Bible
Related Topics: death
Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *
Comment *
Name *
Email *
Website
Save my name, email, and website in this browser for the next time I comment.
Δ