The Grandfather Clock
It stood in the vast front hall Hot Texas sun bleaching its wood. Silent, Tall, A brassy moon face...
Read MorePosted by Peggy Medberry | Feb 16, 2020 | Blog post, poetry | 0 |
It stood in the vast front hall Hot Texas sun bleaching its wood. Silent, Tall, A brassy moon face...
Read MorePosted by Peggy Medberry | Feb 3, 2020 | Blog post, poetry | 0 |
Five leaves Are all that’s left On the greying, knotted Branches. The last fig stolen By the...
Read MorePosted by Peggy Medberry | Feb 3, 2020 | Blog post, poetry | 0 |
Where does the time go? Where does it run to? How can so many days And hours and seconds And years...
Read MoreThis may be a good place to introduce yourself and your site or include some credits.
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