RSS Feed


This morning it’s gone again,
Leaving while I slept
Swept off by dreams.
It comes in waves,
Like dirty laundry and car repairs
Which makes me wonder
About the nature of the negative—
Is it always moving this way?
Building momentum out of sight,
Cresting, crashing, washing itself away again
Leaving me walking the shore
Breathless and relieved,
Amazed at the shells and odd-legged creatures
It left behind—
Horseshoe crabs and calmness
Such sweet and strange-shelled gifts.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

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

leaf and twig

where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry

%d bloggers like this: