Another in Journeys with Walt Whitman - back to the regular posts of a Journey and Sun 15. The tourist searched the wall looking for a name - the boy she gave in to - his last day before Nam. She never saw the bundle near The Nurses - sitting head bowed, silver star pinned to Dogs coat, dreaming of the girl who gave herself to him. (DC) Sun Blind, Highways Headed east on the early beltline run, glare on the windshield speaks as if from God; returning west in the late afternoon, sharp glints map the way to my place in Hell. Poetic States available from writers-and-lovers/ and Amazon
Posted on: Sat, 13 Sep 2014 15:19:49 +0000