Mosaic I
John Scilipote2025-04-19T00:44:27-04:00By Maria Tegzes Loss – lost Dross – the frost that kills Stills the breath of life. The air that escapes And drapes in clouds the limbs, the voice That once sang loud, Now stifled in rifling silence. Grasp the tracks That lead the way back Erased from place This tattered grace – The [...]