by Daniel Thomas Moran
This morning in Sevilla,
I signed a book for Jesus.
He was our tour guide as we
traipsed the storied hills
of Gaudi’s Barcelona, and
wandered the sacred, shining
shores of the Costa Del Sol. Continue reading
by Daniel Thomas Moran
This morning in Sevilla,
I signed a book for Jesus.
He was our tour guide as we
traipsed the storied hills
of Gaudi’s Barcelona, and
wandered the sacred, shining
shores of the Costa Del Sol. Continue reading
Filed under Uncategorized
by Daniel Thomas Moran
At the delicatessen on
Henry St. in The Heights,
he was the senior counterman
at only sixteen years of age.
The 8th grade diploma from
P.S. 32 over on Union made
him the family scholar at the
brownstone on Woodhull St.
Continue reading
Filed under Poetry