On Air

Even as I age  and wrinkle, I seem to be growing a poet’s shadow.  This blind companion, still strange to me, yet lifelong, has even begun to lead me about.  The development is partly of my own making , of course, or at least of my assenting, since it is absolutely necessary for my health, but in this slow, slow… continue reading

Copyright © Rogan Wolf – Poet and Social Worker
In all our sanctuaries we sit at risk

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