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
Welcome!
The poems in this beautifully bound book are a result of over twenty years of observations. Observations of the world around us and on the telecommunications network. All of the hate, love, heroism, disasters, and those who help.
Beautif
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This book is a limited edition, and copies are hand numbered. It will NOT be available through Amazon or other distributors. You must purchase it directly from the author or from this site. It is hard-back (not the spiral bind seen
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