| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 03/20/10 at 11:05 PM ...joan, i see a hill of blue bonnets and your the damsel-dressed in a blue dress, mournful for losses gained in warfare, our worth, our dignity and pride derived from that feeling, i hear mournful Sylvia Plath, grinning for your heart's worth...all the pain from an everBattle has made a good/sad poem...i bow. stand tall. i take my own medicine and remind myself everyday, have to. |