Something Regarding Money

The haunting of unborn winter’s cries was like a ribbon of ice flying loose around the street. Kevin O’ Sullivan shivered when he felt the first tickle of cold encircle him as he strode outside his house to his car. He draped himself with the haven of it and was soon zooming down the lane in

The Shroud

With green as pale as apples, the leaves curl into the buoyant treeProfiles of certaintyInvoking a deityGolden promises and purple faith carried away on a butterfly’s wingsRest at a honey pit covered in tatters, deeper than rough waters.Starry eyes spiral down the crescent time’s slow decrownOn the back of a moth flying the blotchesTo the