“XXXII Oh how wasting wicked age With ample awe and cold embrace will swell And cover all As Frost at harvest slowly climbs & Silver shines in every fold and cleft So Enshrined at last In fun house glass the… — Michael Bee Copy Share Image
“ Your lingering presence erodes me. Heartbeat by heartbeat. Cell by aging cell. Washing away any sense of self I ever had. Intruding into a nothingness I've struggled to find the pieces to fill. A jar filled with stones, piled… — S.A. McAuley Copy Share Image
