count and concentrate
on season to write haiku
concentrate too hard
and
even the smallest hummingbird
will startle you out of
syllables,
darting away
with your careful numbers
one or both of you
ought to be laughing by now
which saves the whole poem
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
Puff Of Smoke Poems 