one cardinal
flies a mad dash
across the rain-soaked sky
layers himself over
the damp green trees
his body brushes
bright shouts of red
which wakes up
the whole picture
one cardinal
flies a mad dash
across the rain-soaked sky
layers himself over
the damp green trees
his body brushes
bright shouts of red
which wakes up
the whole picture
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
Nature always wins the prize for her beautiful water colors, doesn’t she? You’ve done mighty fine, too.