Musings on Life, Love, and Linguine-Poetry & Writing
In the waking golden hours as dawn creeps into the room contemplating the amazing power how turbid thoughts can consume
Our passion haunts my dreams during endless ebony nights quivering murmurs and pleas as our souls yearn to take flight.
February 18,1994 Chilling cold, a slate grey day. As we step from the hearse the rain, with an audible sigh of relief from the burgeoning sky, begins. People come forward, offer umbrellas. Nothing penetrates the mask I wear, not the rain, not the cold,… Continue Reading “#Haibun: Death”
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