Smog has wrapped the city like a fine wool shawl when my mother calls to say she hasn’t slept in days— because of the news on TV and our friend who is dying. I know she is right; these are…
Poems about the dark times.
Smog has wrapped the city like a fine wool shawl when my mother calls to say she hasn’t slept in days— because of the news on TV and our friend who is dying. I know she is right; these are…