Pinned memories
on plastic picture frames.
Instances of innocence
in images of idle moments.
Carefully conserved capturings
of candlelit dinners.
Treasured times
amidst terrible tragedy.
Unheld hands
unwrapped by Heaven’s King.
Relived relationships
of those relieved and remembered.
Endless epigraphs:
embalmed and eternal.
The quiet meadow is his, cool and damp and cushioned, with trees to sleep against and moss along the rocks. Peculiar power has he over...
Simply write And write well All you see and do; Write with words Like magic spells That mesmerize and soothe. Bring forward sword And...
like dust before a flame my thoughts disintegrate what i had to say is singed smeared on the walls of my skull there is nothing now and...
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