Lives of Poets and Other Stuff
The wee hours, a few days before Thanksgiving. Done with sleeping, done with dreaming, I’m standing in my library watching shadows play along the bookshelves. What to do? A famous philosopher once heard a...
Photos & Words
The wee hours, a few days before Thanksgiving. Done with sleeping, done with dreaming, I’m standing in my library watching shadows play along the bookshelves. What to do? A famous philosopher once heard a...
Follow: