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Meeting His Girlfriend

Mom, he said—there’s someone.
And he brought her to dinner,
which went exactly as you’d guess—
Nervous laughter,
many sidelong glances,
her fiddling with her hair,
her scarf, her phone, her fork,
barely eating.
What I really wanted
was to reach across the table
over the untouched food
kiss her forehead
and tell her to relax—
The judging is over, results are in:
that light in his eyes and his
happy, goofy grin
were all I needed to see.

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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"

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custom poems on vintage typewriters

A Poet in Time

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Writing the Day

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Invisible Horse

Living in the moment

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