Oh to be veeringalong Baum Boulevardto the beatus via north,where the squalls of Mercer vanish for a minute, horizon a violet knife-cut, curtainof snow throbbingat the grade’s bottom—none of which you’ll know, my dear,no matter how loudthe ringing tambourines of ice.
Remembering a Steelers Season to Forget. CARD-PITT Read More »