Bleak terrain shows up unconsciously.
Soon we’re lost in mist,
Then a dead-end street,
A dust bowl from past picnics,
Prances visually past red-eyed panic.
No where to stop, the dust mixes with blood
And forms coagulated memories
Only a junky can believe.
No one seems ready for a bologna sandwich,
Most seem tossed into eternity after battling
Thoughts squelched after homecoming.
Blacktop, Home coming
I've never mixed those two together in my thoughts
It was always, home coming and country living
But you woven these two so well
like white on rice
Well penned
Peace be with you
From the author of Jupiter Remembered and Until It’s Time: Embracing Life In Our Later Years comes Petals of Love: Poetry of a Woman’s Soul – a heartfelt collection spanning more than thirty-five years. Through tender reflections, these poems offer g
Early Works is an exhaustive compilation of the first decade of the poems and stories of Z.B.McClure. Included are family photos, rare personal photos, photos of 1st draft manuscripts of many of his early poems. Also some biography and memoir materia
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Love Tinka
I've never mixed those two together in my thoughts
It was always, home coming and country living
But you woven these two so well
like white on rice
Well penned
Peace be with you
William