Fiddler’s Green, a poem for Cavalrymen
Halfway down the trail to hell In a shady meadow green Are the Souls of all the dead troopers camped Near a good old-time canteen. And this eternal resting place Is known as Fiddler’s Green. Marching past, straight through … Continue reading →
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Way Out West - Writing about the West
Some folks says they can see my love of the Southwest - its peoples, cultures, food, terrain and traditions - in my writing. They're right.
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