Poetry from the Writer of Light: THIRTY-NINE YEARS SEVEN MONTHS

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

THIRTY-NINE YEARS SEVEN MONTHS

THIRTY-NINE YEARS SEVEN MONTHS Clock ticks for no one. Only ghosts and memories live here now. Baskets and collectibles viewed by only occasional flies. No dog, only random sheddings. No talk or laughter, just the unheard echoes. Giants games on the radio gone like the Polo Grounds. No smell or... Sign in to see full entry.

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March 2008
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Those of you who consider me a firebrand in the News and Politics section will be surprised at this side of me. May you find light, beauty, laughter and inspiration in these poems.

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