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
aka: The Happy Bookers
Artist
MOSTLY MONTREAL, MOST OF THE TIME
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
Nature always wins the prize for her beautiful water colors, doesn’t she? You’ve done mighty fine, too.