you’re biting your nails again o sweet white of time I feel in the December rush of cold the whoosh of closed & open doors the portals if I knew […]
Read more
The Metaworker Literary Magazine
Where great stories are forged
you’re biting your nails again o sweet white of time I feel in the December rush of cold the whoosh of closed & open doors the portals if I knew […]
Read moreThe cracks of frost in the whitened planksspell the end of one season and the slow plunge into the next.By the black pond, the danceof insects grows sparse.The reflections of […]
Read moreCome with me, it won’t be far; we have all night, and the seasons with it, in your heart: I’m dying. I’ll tell you about the nearer part of it, […]
Read morethe snow melts grey into late december and mean music is making a sudden comeback in the bars saxophones and tatters of rattled live drumming after that santa stuff’s been […]
Read more