By Thomas Page
Eastward towards the
Chariot of Apollo
In the morning drive
Deer stand at the edge
Of the road; their eyes shine at
The high beams passing
Some say alcohol
Is for easing people at
Parties; not for me
By Thomas Page
Eastward towards the
Chariot of Apollo
In the morning drive
Deer stand at the edge
Of the road; their eyes shine at
The high beams passing
Some say alcohol
Is for easing people at
Parties; not for me