crescent
what of this minute will
i remember how
i couldn’t think of anything
still she comes after the evening settles her
among the intermittent lights of thrill-
seekers
stars softly
View all poems by Bob Marcacci
i remember how
i couldn’t think of anything
still she comes after the evening settles her
among the intermittent lights of thrill-
seekers
stars softly
Bob Marcacci
View all poems by Bob Marcacci