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All the crafted cards Fly by in a shuffle of swirling symmetry, Hypnotizing as they masquerade In the guise of sameness. But on one of the unseen sides Looms the sinister shadow of the Queen of Spades, The mysterious mistress...
Most of the statues in Riz’s Museum were everyday folk. Artwork unknown to the world, with titles substituted for numbers on the description plaques, but I knew them all, and so did my father. Ruth the Beggar on her knees looking up with imploring eyes. The emaciated children in tattered vestments. Marcus the Musician who […]
Step right up. Which hat will you put on today? All are made in the old-fashioned way, An eternal quality each does hold, Passed down from times of old. Those who wore them Were no different from You or I, So what do you say, Do you dare try— To don or not, That is […]
