It fits into a dozen boxes
Of budgets and lesson plans,
Meetings and mindless jargon.
Do not forget
To pack the sweetness, too:
memories of children and
Books, all the delicious
Conversations that won’t stay
Inside any box, so they
Ride on your shoulder or
Swing from the rear view
Mirror, waving goodbye.
aka: The Happy Bookers
Artist
MOSTLY MONTREAL, MOST OF THE TIME
I came to where you were living, up a stair. There was no one there.--John Ashberry, "The New Higher"
custom poems on vintage typewriters
One Poet's Writing Practice
A Ronka Poetry Practice Since 2014
Living in the moment
where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry
