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Read MoreIn the distance, an echo"Beaufort, Beaufort by the sea..."Keeping cadence gently with the wavesThough I haven't walked this shore in yearsThe ghosts of footsteps linger hereFifteen men, forty-three poundsDancing with the sand fleasTheir ghosts are still runningYounger than the...
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I appreciate that, sincerely.
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Atticus Abbey and
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Read MoreI saw in your eyes crying for the shadow on my stone with a candle in the cathedral when the moon has licked the graveyard grass a melody of dying withers fate has made between the pages a forgotten...
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And shall we consume in painful desire
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Always
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Read More"Once upon a midnight dreary," I whispered to the corpse of my Lenovo, the words slipping from my lips in a cadence not my own—a voice borrowed from a long-dead bard, thick with the weight of centuries and bourbon....
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Thank you, kindly.
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I think this is the lightest piece I’ve read of yours. I’m almost in shock. lol. This carries a quiet, restrained reverence, the kind that honours memory without dramatizing it. The echo of cadence against the waves lingers long after the last line. Loved it.