Gray silk lake at dusk
To the west, sun tipped water
Tilts the world towards pink.
Gray silk lake at dusk
To the west, sun tipped water
Tilts the world towards pink.
aka: The Happy Bookers
Artist
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.
“Gray silk lake at dusk…” What a beautiful mouthful of elegant words…so lovely.