Will Vigar

a writer of sorts

My Houseplants Hate Me

No eyes to see you. No hands to reach for your aid. I feel the disdain Growing in you; begrudging even the smallest of drops.

February 27, 2016 · Leave a comment

Tanka 2

Breathing in crisp must The scents that herald winter. Understanding that written on each golden page, Shining words of renewal.

February 27, 2016 · Leave a comment