*8*

*8*

*10*

Yep, "there's a thunder" brewing below my chaps. It's almost my turn in the pie aborting contest.

So true. Well done.

Nothing makes the night seem lonely "like" the soft fluttering in her shuttered eyes. This structure seems awkward to me. I know that "Nothing says lovin' like something from the oven and Pillsbury says it best" but, perhaps, a more direct approach to say this important thing? "The night is made more lonely by the soft, etc." You are the creator. Let not my will but yours be done. Even with the slightly uncomfortable second coming (stanza), it is very evocative of 13 years of nights spent with my ex-wife. -10-

All us stoke victims know all about the Penumbra. -9-

I printed this poem out and went to the restroom to read it. As it came to it's climax, my nut-filled bowl came to its own. Oh was that bowel? Nuts! Good. No, really! -10- Now I'll go back to wipe.

Eyes moving about while the lids are closed. She's upset. I hate those kinda nights. Good poem.

Even the doorknob becomes grief when grief is there. "The stoic moon shares it's lonely glow as if it knows."

A nostalgic neighborhood tour with lots of questions for one not acquainted with yours. Mine is very clear too.

meh.

You should save up money to buy a keyboard with a shift button. 3.

Ingrinable. 9.

Dear Doug, Please disregard the fatuous remarks above, they are a weak attempt to curry favour with you. We all know the only way to curry favour is to get an ethnic to do it. Your bestest friend in whole world, Stephen Throbbington Robins