Category: Poetry
-
Tethered are we – for we cannot run Like steam blowing free Between the trees Tethered are we – for we cannot run Like diesel…
-
Those Left Behind Who digs here now? Where once dug we To shelter from the hail Of shells and bullets The evil intent Of the…
-
Spring it is That brings the snow White Blackthorn flowers Upon the bough Icy fingers Frost the cars Feverish commuters Scraping…
2e0mca.uk 