William Meloney writes poetry. I like it. His imagery, his presence, his vision, his style… it’s a brave thing to share from the heart. “Adrift” begins…
Sitting alone, except for the
insistent cat at my ankles,
across the dayroom, through
the open door
I watched my father sleep.
This blog, 2Voices, is like the jeweler’s black velvet display cloth, strewn with a half dozen or so precious gems.
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