How quickly she forgetsthat states of Life are temporary,and will run down Main Streetscreaming “Fire!” at the top of her totem pole…
Who is that inside my head?Not my thoughts and not my voice,But a shadow playfully peeking,Poking and…
“Good afternoon, gentlemen. I sell men’s socks and briefs,” he says, setting down a camping bag big enough to dwarf his frame.
Read Part I
Another sleep deprived waking nightmare. It’s hot, cold, frigid, damp all together…
When the rains come, remember the sun