[tabby title="Poem"] I consulted the poets today.Like a sick child at the doctor-Ginsburg, Oliver, Yeats...They always knew the cure:with their fire, peace and aches. They told me to wake past noonand sit in the humming garden.To read under the heavy...

[tabby title="Poem"] My mother told me,'Over the hill lies a safer place,where all things blessed and holywill greet me with a warm embrace'. I used to long for this fiction.Over the hill, beyond the fire.Sparked by the frictionof old tales...

[tabby title="Poem"] Her voice is like liquid silver,faintly flowing through the fractures of my heart.Every word she spokecrept through faded footpaths of lost love,its warmth soothing sorrow and soldering scars. I knew this would never last-silver will always fade.What I...