December 4, 2006 – Natalia A.

Matching my mood, word-for-word: Mr. Flood’s Party Old Eben Flood, climbing alone one night Over the hill between the town below And the forsaken upland hermitage That held as much as he should ever know On earth again of home, paused warily. The road was his with not a native near; And Eben, having leisure,Continue reading “Monday Night Poetry Club”