Brad Evans Poems

When the mid-winter moon is a full, ripe peach
When a gentle breeze blows through the trees
An old man wanders down a dead, country lane
Past a turnpike - left broke by the centuries
...

as the nights of passion are
cooled by memory

as the street bears the weight
...

In midwinter you will find me
Appearing better than my companion.
From a distance, at first glance,
One may mistake me for the head of Medusa!
...

I don't know about you
but one of the best recollections
I have about eating at McDonalds
As a child
...

Lit bright by fire both wanting & searching,
I'm proud of you and that old, Newy crowd;
A lone portrait from a youth of yearning.
...

My journey

he said
...

they will flee to paris
they will flee to india
they will hide in a cardboard shack
they will go anywhere
...

walking along the footpath
her B&W portrait

left
...

they were picking mushrooms
when it went up.

Although the heat
...