Thursday, December 28, 2017
SOMETHING SCRIBBLED IN AN OLD NOTEBOOK
The Poet Reads Damned once by faint praise her return is made cautiously, she waits just outside the circle, barely illuminated by the firelight. The poet is tempted to run again and hide but there is something calling: a truth - personal - perhaps universal: perhaps a clue for the one rather than... Sign in
to see full entry.