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Tony Brennan
May 2, 2020
1 min read

Early April

An absence of Spring

A treasured silence

Rumble of panic

Born from forced quiet

Rhythmic breathing

From a loved one sleeping

A sudden chill

Fear

Low and stealthy

Stalks the world

-TB April 4, 2020 2:03 A.M

New York City

My sweet child

What gold crested spirits

Chase after you

In your windy dreams

Tease them all you like

But in the end

Let them catch you

And take you away

To where the smiles hang out

Waiting for a face to cross

-TB. Sometime in 1991

Brookville NY

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