Francine Walls

His scent lingers near his bedroom door, I sniff the air – a startled deer – then feel his absence in the molted room. #DeathValley...

You have said your good-byes like prayers, used to the words on your lips; your child has the shape of your eyes, but the shade of...

tosses off colors, swirling, a flutterance – no thought of loss or want or farewell, brilliance for a shilling or a dime or naught...