Just as the eye shared by the three sisters of fate used to engage with destiny, when the heel of her hand rests on a page, her words become weaving Goddesses, spinning stories that resemble her life through the tales...

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] My father a rain switchreaching out horizontallyexpanding his arms.Eyes beaming lightfingers pointing towards the sky.My father would say a storm is brewing.There has always been a wayto determine that the rain is coming.It is not always in...