Lightly we tread in the woods Along a muddy path Fog blanketing the lake I hold my skirt To keep the hem dry You take

Lightly we tread in the woods Along a muddy path Fog blanketing the lake I hold my skirt To keep the hem dry You take
You might have seen this before. A friend asked me to post it again, please, so here you go. Enjoy. Note: “Ode to a Greek
Headless He stood in front of me his neck a stump without a head. In his hand was a note on expensive stationary scrawled in
October brings Cool mornings Birthday celebrations Ghosts wondering If they should go To parties of those They used to know. Vampires trying To remember What
The ghosts That haunt us Can wait Until Halloween. We’ve all Had too much Wearing masks For two summers It might never End So in
I’m honored to share a poem from my friend, Northern California writer, and Vietnam Vet, Richard Turton. The Eagle Cried The acrid smell of cordite