Day 32
The scrag-end of the storm bites Its way through my various layers of clothes Screws my back into untenable postures So I have to lie on the bed to bend… Continue Reading
Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter
The scrag-end of the storm bites Its way through my various layers of clothes Screws my back into untenable postures So I have to lie on the bed to bend… Continue Reading
I woke up at six this morning, my mind overflowing with words. Standing outside the office just now, before stepping into its new warmth, those words started coming faster and… Continue Reading
I am thankful that words are immortal,That we leave something behind when we go,Some things our people can touch and read and understand. I am thankful for the too many words… Continue Reading