Meet John Grey

Published on Compose:

Two Poems: Dirge; An Egret in Winter

Dirge There is no organ, merely the sound of it in my head.And whoever’s playing never strays from the low notes.Dirige, Domine, Deus meus, in conspectus tuo viam meam.My thoughts forgo translation. There’s no need. The world resembles a funeral…

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