Backroad Love Story: “Charting a path”

Each night I press my ear to your empty pillow as if it were a seashell, conch or nautilus and while your voice used to echo each night that we were forever and anchored and true your pillow now only provides me with the deafening silence of distant waves from a now vacant shore where…

Poem: “Hallowed ground”

To much of the world hallowed ground is a grotto under a church in oh little town. To others it’s a sacred monolith in Mecca or along the banks of the river Ganges. Some feel it’s the killing fields of Gettysburg or where their hearts are buried South Dakota. And others find hallowed two holes…