"Bubbling up in our own good time-- online."
Groundwaters Publishing, LLC
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Volume 5 Issue 3
Page 19
Page 19
The sun was about to set, scoffing at unpredictable waves, hovering inches above the ocean, mulish on settling. And just at that moment, when the sand became rose-pink, shimmering like the wavelets, I saw a butterfly wing in the sand, a half sail flapping, it’s orange powder unstable in the wind. Remnants of chance and romance Drift along the sands to the shore. |
| Beached Wing By Janine Margiotta |
