No wonder they set out to find the Savior of the world. They’d seen him in action.
Tag: Poetry
June Bugs by Richard Spilman
Insects have no sense of tragedy.
Age of Loss by Richard Spilman
The web pulses in the breeze — huge, white, glittering with dew.
Tilting by John Holland
He mounts Ego. That winged ass.
Once Upon A Mind by John Holland
. . .running riot through red rooms.
By Any Other Name, by Richard Spilman
My love is like a red, red begonia. Doesn’t work.
Tornado, by Richard Spilman
You could almost hear music.
ICE STORM, by Richard Spilman
Trees like old men, bent with the burden of their bones.
