G. WaltersA mildly trafficked walkThe man who rode past me smells like my grandfather,Jan 4, 2023Jan 4, 2023
G. WaltersFour Years PassingThat time I was here before I dreamed of sherbet skies and folklore I wrote poems of trees and danced like a child My tears then were…Jun 2, 2022Jun 2, 2022
G. WaltersA First TormentSitting surrounded by shadows I tremble Waiting for someone to come and meddle with the stories stitched stinging like nettles I bleed…May 31, 2022May 31, 2022