Soldiers of the Queen The foam on the incoming tide bubbles crimson As it leaches the blood from the sand. The waves lap softly at the tangle of slaughtered flesh, Rocking blood-spattered corpses gently, and Like the arms of a mother for her child, Comforts, and croons a solitary song. Unleashed hair floats on The…
Tag: New Horizons Writers Group
Clubs & Classes, June 2014
New Horizons Writers Group – June 2014
Crazy Man Kennedy Bob Hirt “Damn near killed myself” was the first thing George Kennedy said to my father as he rolled the old Buick into the garage for an oil change at Kennedy’s garage two days after the Fourth of July holiday. My father knew exactly what he was referring to. Kennedy had a…