Forth, or: Grounded

My 1st Alouette Writing on and on, Calling for black swan, Which shall soar forth from down(ed) soul, Bearing long-lost words. That rarest of birds... Without which, I can't be whole. I'm... sure it is true... Should I continue, Free, winged truth shall arise. Oh, desperately, I will this to be, Ere rising into the… Continue reading Forth, or: Grounded