Of nineteen thirty-four
The motor car is always a thing of darkness, In the sun and lighted roads of day And in the luminous gas at night though
8m ago
The Old Man
After cremation everyone returned To their respective destination. The neighborhood was desolate
1y ago
A Poem
A ferocious heat induced meditation And the world was blurred in a haze The streets were torrid cauldrons On which the pedestrians baked.
4y ago
July 14, 2018
Three Poems
In the silence of the heart
June 9, 2018
Two Poems
When home is broken
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