On Hectic Days

Wisdom whispers
in my jagged, jangled head:
Dissolve
into these distractions
till there is only the doing
and no more you at all.
This is always spoken
in a calm, cream-colored voice,
dressed in silk,
smelling of incense.
I seldom follow her advice,
preferring to cling
to this sneaker-scented world
of eraser dust and denim,
with its Technicolor talk.

Leave a comment

A Hundred Falling Veils

there's a poem in every day

The Novel Bunch

aka: The Happy Bookers

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: Poems by Mary Kendall

Writing the Day

A Ronka Poetry Practice Since 2014

Invisible Horse

Living in the moment