The old mare was just about bullet proof her skin so thick– impenetrable by the pesky needle nosed mosquitoes. Once a race horse but blew her hocks so she hobbles in the hobbles shackled to her feet. But her eyes hold a fire of desire to see reality and pass around the key of sweatContinue reading “She’s In, Mate”
Short stories, poetry, and excerpts of God's healing
Purple Pennies 