They came at close of Sabbath day. Two solitary figures, they just as the sun had set. Where once it threw its blazing life light into view the sky around; before the orange gild had died away into the silent death and gray of night. And rested there, some place deep in earth, where it […]Read more "Close of Day"
Across the trampled field there lies the mounds of armor, spent and gone that once, enlivened, fought their king and all besmeared now lie upon the clay – Three figures, carried, each from off their cross as ever watchful priests survey the scene. – The Old Pretender sits at last upon the hill he sought […]Read more "Waiting for the Day"
When friendships die, we bury them. We carry them gently to the valley and lay them in the dirt. We raise a memorial stone and groan as daylight fades and we leave the grave alone. But we come back now and then to track again the happy days on ways that will not cross again, […]Read more "When Friendships Die"