She was sitting now where she had sat for thirty years. Her high-backed rocker, with its cushion of copperplate patch and its crocheted tidy, stood always by a southern window that looked out on the river. The river was a sheet of crystal, as it poured over the dam; a rushing, roaring torrent of foaming white, as it swept under the bridge and fought its way between the rocky cliffs beyond, sweeping swirling, eddying, in its narrow channel, pulsing restlessly into the ragged fissures of its shores, and leaping with a tempestuous roar into the Witches' Eel-pot, a deep wooded gorge cleft in the very heart of the granite bank.
Voices from a Forgotten Letter: Poems on the Syrian Civil War explores the Syrian Civil War from the perspectives of civilians, Unique in the war canon because of its focus on civilians, this book will give you a perspective of war you have never seen before. The civilians range from the young to the old, from the educated to the working class, from refugees to the wives of sol...
Supports Lendle with Commissions Earned
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