oh patrick...bet you've been watching the atlanta morning news again....people who choose or make gutter coffins are a dime a dozen...every morning...posthastetothelake
There is so much truth in this. It would make me think that while living on this plane of life, one would want to make all things beautiful because in the end the soil is just the soil. Dirt Sleep is reality in mortality. This comes from deep in the soul, Patrick. I appreciate this style of poetry. Grave markers rest at the plot of poets, too...then it is when poets become famous, in their dirt sleep.
A further collection of poems, many from years in the Middle East, but also the California San Francisco and Central Coast areas (Santa Cruz, Carmel, Big Sur, Berkeley, etc.).
Each person is but a grain of sand resting beside the sea. This thought sets the tone for Jill Eisnaugle’s latest poetry collection, Beside Still Waters.
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Grave, dark humor.
Ron
This is graceful and tranquil.
Namaste,
Christine
Your friend, Mark
Peace,
Dayvid
How so very true.
Love,
Sage