.
I think we need your help Lord God;
Fairly sure we do,
Sure as feet upon the sod,
Sure as coins be few,
We must concede the modern day is dim and dark, unclear,
For limits seem so far away, while close at hand is fear.
.
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. Four Thousand Four Hundred Miles The shiny willows waved in yellow bloom Inland beyond the spit of dirty sand...
. . Battle Hymn of the Republic The Lord doth come; the grapes of wrath are crushed! Behold His fiery...
Very thoughtful verses, Kimberly, that make your readers more thoughtful. I discovered that a recently deceased friend was a Wednesday's…
Rain is welcome here— where parched, cracked earth wastes no tears, canyons drink their fill. Rivers wash the world. Eddies…
Kimberly, a thoughtful and clever poem. I enjoy your vivid imagery and esteem for the melancholic temperament. Well done.
Perfect comment, C.B.
The comments immediately preceding this one of mine have reminded me to praise the profound beauty of your "Otherness," Justin.…
