Sun Tzu’s perennial military treatise, the Art of War, has slid in and out of my consciousness over the years. I…
Here we are, in the throes of a fiery hatred
That threatens to engulf all that we love;
How could we be but utterly reckless
The lonely half-moon hangs in the sky waiting for the twinkling stars to come out and play. The moonlight is dim as the evening is not yet black enough for it to reveal its true brilliance.
He welcomes warm summer nights that defy any sense of time. The daylight drags on…