RSS Feed


You won’t be good at living alone,
my son tells me, because
you are too talkable,
his word combining
talkative and sociable.
And I am.
describes me, plunging
into any conversation,
dipping my toes, paddling around,
always these same waters.
Now scared but almost ready
for the hidden pool
behind the waterfall
where the surface is still
and I am able
but do not talk.

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 Novel Bunch

aka: The Happy Bookers

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

%d bloggers like this: