The Bakers of Auschwitz
We hear in this oven this scented room the sighs of dough rising a confection of worldly...
Read MorePosted by John Guzlowski | Sep 3, 2013 | Poetry
We hear in this oven this scented room the sighs of dough rising a confection of worldly...
Read MorePosted by John Guzlowski | Sep 3, 2013 | Poetry
Sorrow is the gift God gives to teach us what won’t last, what will fall and be left on the side...
Read MorePosted by John Guzlowski | Sep 3, 2013 | Poetry
John Milton died alone in his room, his daughter Ann picking herbs in the garden, parsley and...
Read MorePosted by John Guzlowski | Sep 3, 2013 | Poetry
When I see a melon on the table glinting in the morning light,...
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