School at five a.m.
Long halls where nothing echoes
Lockers closed as clam shells
Waiting for the ocean
School at five a.m.
Long halls where nothing echoes
Lockers closed as clam shells
Waiting for the ocean
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 Poetry Practice
Living in the moment
where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry
