- The sun closes its' eyes / on expected phone calls / unanswered business /leaving the dark loneliness of my heart's desire /to the cold night /of my dreams / a person's character is not formed until the closing breath /in this world / a chatter of birds and folks gratus / is all we really need / my nerves in uneasy buzzing of bees robbing my bones......
Showing posts with label my high school typewriter that my mom brought. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my high school typewriter that my mom brought. Show all posts
Sunday, May 17, 2009
1982 /arriving in Indpls., a family of eight , deep consideration
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