Aftermath There is or was a line between this and that dividing what I am from where I'm at There was a night There was a day There was a time when I could sit A time when I could play Now between the muted tones of pastel walls an sterile halls The people dressed in white Tend the lines and hoses that are guided by the dully flashing lights.

If you have comments or questions about anything on this site, please contact the  web mistress
All poems are original material  and is copyrighted  © 1979-2006; Ian Wuolle

Graphic design of this site and its maintenance is provided by Crystal Cloud Graphics in conjunction with Elysium Gates Web Hosting.  The graphics on this page are for the exclusive usage of the owner of this site and cannot be used elsewhere without her permission. Contact the web mistress.