The Anthology
In soil's embrace, a spud takes root
In soil's embrace, a spud takes root, Beneath the earth, in silence, it's mute. A humble tuber, skin so rough, "Ode to a spud," let's sing enough. From eyes to heart, a journey unfolds, In garden beds, where tales are told. A knobby orb, a hidden gem, A starchy dream, from…
A members’ writing from The Anthology — this is an honest preview. Read the full piece on The Book of Unger.
Continue reading →Rise, and breathe a purer air.