Wingtip to wingtip, they jink, tripand wheel with a rhythmic beat. They’re comedians, tar-stainedcroaks telling bad jokes that tumble like hailstones from the sky. Morrigan, transformed, foretells fate,her unkindness of ravens the guardians who guideour sorry souls to the afterlife. Kim M. Russell, 26th January 2026 Today is Quadrille Monday at the dVerse Poets Pub; […]
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