The Scent of Heaven
By Paul F. Kisak The Scent of Heaven When shadows of soldiersFill the muster’s last hall.The muse will replaceThe sad bugler’s frail call. This is the peace of dreamsFor both young and old.Let no one feel pain,Go without or feel cold. ’Tis not a condition thatMust wait post ’pocalypse.It is within our graspAs common ground […]