How We Love
Your hand in the night before sleep, before waking, patting my hair so lightly, your fingers telling the story of how we love, the song
Your hand in the night before sleep, before waking, patting my hair so lightly, your fingers telling the story of how we love, the song
Life Within Smoke from a chimney, the faint spread of light, cold hand of winter on bare trees, thorns exposed on the flowerless rose; life
Ireland, 1919 Shaking him from sleep they came in the night, rain falling off their wet clothes like the sky he’d soon be under. “We
What fool would listen to ghosts beside the river, the shades of ancient trees, of badger and wolf when proud buildings fill the waterfront, roads