The Measuring Time

The wolves of night

Draw ever closer

For this is the measuring time.

Big and cold the proud moon sits

On heaven’s darkest shelf:

Streetwalkers prize for the taking.

‘Ere sunup and warmth

Some will find loving,

Some will be wanting love;

Many will find love wanting.

When the Smoke …

Back then


The smoke



It seems to me

We saw

Each other

More clearly. Continue reading