Sailing

She misses the morning mist; the deep, shadowed vista of valleys hair flying across her face like curtains her papa at the helm of ‘Atlanta’. passing plagues of flies at the bridge where fishermen cleaned their catches Each day like a page and once turned no chance of ever re-tracing. 5/13/2013 For Russell Sivey’s 5 minute Challenge Used the wordlist as a trigger and wrote for 5 mins. Mist, helm, part, page, plaque, hair, traces, bridge, curtain, vista