If I Die Before You
If I Die Before You If I die before you do not let the men with the paper hearts make you cry, do...
Read Moreby williampage | | Lryics, Poetry | 0
If I Die Before You If I die before you do not let the men with the paper hearts make you cry, do...
Read Moreby williampage | | Lryics, Poetry | 0
Little Lovers Two sparrows built their nest in my thoughts last spring. Little lovers, I...
Read Moreby williampage | | Lryics, Poetry | 0
The First Day of Spring To some the first day of spring was cruel in its remembrance...
Read Moreby williampage | | Lryics, Poetry | 0
August Moon You sat with your legs apart, fanning yourself; on your face beads of sweat...
Read Moreby williampage | | Lryics, Poetry | 0
Travelogue 1 The idea of home always perplexed me. Is it necessarily the place we were...
Read Moreby williampage | | Lryics, Poetry | 0 |
Gare de l’Est I stood before the train station today and watched as a multitude of people fled from themselves to the city’s splendor and decay; I had not seen so many overcome with dread. Some were lost inside themselves,...
Read Moreby williampage | | Lryics, Poetry | 0
Time: Act One, Scene One Along a narrow strip of wet road the gods are trying to slow...
Read Moreby williampage | | Lryics, Poetry | 0 |
Saint Petersburg (Departure) The drops at the station were for you— not tears—just a shower of rain; a mist washed over the city and hid the sadness of Saint Peter’s pain. The sky could not weep for what you didn’t understand or...
Read Moreby williampage | | Lryics, Poetry | 0
The Girl in the Green Dress The girl in the green dress came sweeping around my porch...
Read Moreby williampage | | Lryics, Poetry | 0
What Have I Done, If I Haven’t Loved What have I done, if I haven’t loved? Have I paced off...
Read Moreby williampage | | Lryics, Poetry | 0 |
The Bow of Ulysses Property is an idea. This was understood once. A night of revolving planets and falling stars was not so distant then. The world was without tenants, no one claimed it, no one said ‘mine’ or ‘ours.’ The rain...
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