The first of winter’s snow, and turtles holding us up.
Turtles all the way down
and every one of them
prepares for the coming winter
in layers of quiet nights
and knitted scarves, all colors,
all the way down,
to muffle the chill
The first of winter’s snow, and turtles holding us up.
Turtles all the way down
and every one of them
prepares for the coming winter
in layers of quiet nights
and knitted scarves, all colors,
all the way down,
to muffle the chill
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