Poem by Bruce McRae
Travelling Salesman Last of his kind, the world having changed greatly, mopping his brow in the heat, adjusting his soup-stained tie before coming to call upon the widow, the housewife, [...]
Two Poems by Bruce McRae
Years And Years The lithe years, to be admired for their rare vintage. The mumbling years, yet to come. And this last year, squatting like a horse sitting on its [...]