I was eight and followed wherever light commanded . . .
Faith by Richard Spilman
Grace . . . kept by itself in the drawer of a bedside table. . .
June Bugs by Richard Spilman
Insects have no sense of tragedy.
The Field by Richard Spilman
There are evenings when God walks in this field — yes, this one
Age of Loss by Richard Spilman
The web pulses in the breeze — huge, white, glittering with dew.
Conditional by Richard Spilman
let him burn the house down
Come here by John Holland
And let the dance begin
Once Upon A Mind by John Holland
. . .running riot through red rooms.
Broken Wings by John Holland
This world is hard and heavy. Most often darkness rules; but in the sunlight somewhere sings every bird with broken wings. Broken Wings is part of an… Read more “Broken Wings by John Holland”
Northern Waters by John Holland
I knew a sea once