A polished oak chair in the hearth room rocks silently on the knotted floor. Keeper of the peace at once steady and commanding presides silently. Children scuffle and momma boils a stew. Loaded with kindling, a caste-iron stove waits for a light from the man in the rocking chair who stops swaying to reach the … Continue reading Poppa
Author: Nick Saba
I'm a writer who practices ultrasound. Poetry is my passion, and Irony is my best friend. On my free time I take pictures of people's organs to help radiologists make diagnoses.
