This takes either
effort
or relaxing
I’ve forgotten which–
clouds on horizon,
snow on everything else
become
islands far out at sea
mountain ranges
carved out of reality
by the smallest shift
This takes either
effort
or relaxing
I’ve forgotten which–
clouds on horizon,
snow on everything else
become
islands far out at sea
mountain ranges
carved out of reality
by the smallest shift
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