Concrete Rose
A quiet Monday morning. Two small daughters who look at me in awe. A longing I can't quite name. A poem about stillness, fear, fatherhood, and the part of life worth remembering — to live it.
A quiet Monday morning. Two small daughters who look at me in awe. A longing I can't quite name. A poem about stillness, fear, fatherhood, and the part of life worth remembering — to live it.