People Die by Jeb Loy Nichols
A song I wrote last week, listening to the blackbirds in the bare trees, watching the sun come up across the hills.
Writer, musician, artist, worrier, reader, sleeper, tree planter, squirrel watcher.
A song I wrote last week, listening to the blackbirds in the bare trees, watching the sun come up across the hills.
Writer, musician, artist, worrier, reader, sleeper, tree planter, squirrel watcher.