…this day…
I cannot sleep, for sleep is the sibling of death A young Queensbridge poet stated Just the facts, when the
Read moreI cannot sleep, for sleep is the sibling of death A young Queensbridge poet stated Just the facts, when the
Read moreThe Darkness Stirs … I think of loss as the pinnacle of empathy The tears flowing that descend as coping
Read moreI cried… Tears visible on my cheeks Or so I imagined, afterwards My attention was focused Stiff upper lip, back
Read moreFor the Love of a Friend The dusting of hard, cold sleet found its way down his collar, but
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