though it was bright I could see no life I could hear no child the stillness disturbed no sound of …
A New Spring. A poem by Phil Lynch
Early buds birth their first leaves, cocky crows guard half-built nests on the tops of trees still bare, small birds …
Drifters. A poem by Phil Lynch
we are drifters shifting in shadows of doubt lost in a landscape of half-withered thought we talk to everyone and …