Just Another Old Tree
My park gates are being opened; I hear the metal hinges creak. They are rusted now, these hinges—pieces of browned, crisp metal drop off quietly, …
My park gates are being opened; I hear the metal hinges creak. They are rusted now, these hinges—pieces of browned, crisp metal drop off quietly, …
I’m feeling old. I am 66. That is starting to sound old to me. My dad died at 72… that seems close now. My right …