Old Dayton’s Memories
I’d asked him about the war. He sat quietly sipping black coffee as his eye’s took on a distant look.
Read moreI’d asked him about the war. He sat quietly sipping black coffee as his eye’s took on a distant look.
Read moreDelicate, the countenance
Read moreWe Appeased And so he rose up to himself, that potential in wait, and with shoulders back ascended the walls
Read morePath towards eternal home … What path is this that I seek but the final journey towards eternal home no more
Read moreShe stood atop the stoop, hobnail boots rocking, her dress swaying, and a heart now racing, as Tom, the baker
Read moreA writer’s soul … Tis a burden to be a writer, a soul betrayer expletive, a pen dipped in blood
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