No poem this morning just
words, jumbledandfallen
Undisciplined
tumbling down
around my feet
like jovial puppies.
No poem this morning just
words, jumbledandfallen
Undisciplined
tumbling down
around my feet
like jovial puppies.
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