March On

Merril D. Smith In scant light, slant light, shadows strollabove the bones unseen,remains of scattered, shattered lives,Glory, Hallelujah, we used to sing. Was this then, or is this now?The truth is marching on–torn, twisted, and trampledin scant, slant light as shadows stroll, as masked men menace, muscled maraudersfrom obscurity troll in the scant, slant light Continue reading