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When you’ve been walking

in circles, wrapped in old conversations

that can never keep you warm

and every moment is another moment

she’d rather be somewhere else.

When you’re weary because your heart

is tied to your child

so it is always traveling

or packing its bags.

When you can’t remember

how to reach her or how to get home–

Rest on the road.

Talk long into the night with the other travelers, who are

all searching for their wandering hearts.

Light a fire and sip something warm together.

Swap stories and laugh.

Though this is not the place you sought

you can learn to let it be, for now, close to


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The Sketchbook


Red Wolf Prompts

I came to where you were living, up a stair. There was no one there.--John Ashberry, "The New Higher"

typewriter rodeo

custom poems on vintage typewriters

A Poet in Time

One Poet's Writing Practice

Writing the Day

A Poetry Practice

Invisible Horse

Living in the moment

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