Poetry
I watch you, quiet, as a cacophony must be ringing in your ears only Your every cell wars. Every soldier is deployed at last, for the final, desperate charge. All I hear is machines ticking and clicking, A small “beep,” Your breathing, and the sounds of your pain as you
Poetry
Let me never not look up again — But here, right now, The lake-sand is blue in the clouded midday grey-sky and the broken reeds are quick and sharp — I must pick my way through them. So, I step slow, and Images in the corner of my eye are dreamy, and
Poetry
is poetry. I wrote this for my Okie best friend's new son, Fitzhugh. It incorporates a list of favorite memories concerning Fitz that she gave me. It's a simple and straightforward piece - just a little something to break the lull in my posting. Hope you