The River A poem by Rosalie Sanara Petrouske The River (For Dee, with love)My sister said,the day we are born,a date is chosen for usto leave life.We don’t know whenor how soon.My mother used to say this too.As a child... Continue Reading →
Ghosts a poem by Paul Hooker GhostsBy blood and by choice, we make our ghosts; we haunt ourselves. —Diana Gabaldon, Drums of Autumn. You are not alone here.The mirror cracks and shattersIn myriad tinkling falling sliversThat whisper like a Judas... Continue Reading →
Poetry Breakfast 