Prose
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So, I found a couple of old prose poems that a wrote more than twenty years ago and relaized how much I had changed and at the same time how much of me remains contstant. I’ve always been a romantic, mostly a hopeless romantic. A few months ago, I uncovered a few of my earlier…
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As the world turns to greet nightAnd families return to their homesWeary from the day and wary of the nightThe skies applaud the sun for a day of workPulling blanket of stars over her headShe goes to her well earned restAnd creatures of twilight appearThey want to dance and sing and revelFor they only exist…
Silver Moon Stories 