Which will blossom first,
clutch of daffodils in their brown pitcher
or you?
Together, whispers that voice
outside the windows
Lift your heads and blossom
to This World
Which will blossom first,
clutch of daffodils in their brown pitcher
or you?
Together, whispers that voice
outside the windows
Lift your heads and blossom
to This World
there's a poem in every day
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