Category Archives: The Occasional Poem

There are times when I miss him. Like now, as I write this, when I was doing something else entirely different in a different country and fifty years later I suddenly miss him. I never know when I will miss … Continue reading →

In memory of Peter Warshall He knows he is dying. We know he is dying. We sit in the dying light, the fading velvet light of dusk, talking, building a wall of words to forestall his dying, our dying, exploring … Continue reading →