The diction need not be clear
for "what is" vanishes
gone forever into some
unfathomable place
that happens by
when most alone,
when wrinkled and weary,
a fusion of spirit
and dissertations,
become the last comfort,
the last surmise
of what it was
to be alive,
to understand it all,
so clearly seen
in the mind's eye,
right before that last
goodbye.
David Hightower’s lyrically expansive meditation on the whims of fate and the unpredictability of the human condition fill the pages of THE HANGING MAN DREAMS with thrilling music and mesmerizing imagery. Hightower’s richly infused voice echoes the e
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