My father was a writer. He wrote articles, short stories, children's books, and satires. Short, sharp, funny parodies like, I'm Okay, but You're Not So Hot, and the literary scavengers' answer to ... [+]
As we rest in a hammock,
the maraca snake slithers past
at the speed of nonchalance,
and feathered torpedoes
play tag.
Buzzing bees bumble by.
Motion fights stillness
and silence smothers sound
among the hallowed halls
of ferrous stone.
the maraca snake slithers past
at the speed of nonchalance,
and feathered torpedoes
play tag.
Buzzing bees bumble by.
Motion fights stillness
and silence smothers sound
among the hallowed halls
of ferrous stone.