How can one day hold both
terrorists in Paris
and the six-point buck
eating our windfall apples
Handsome and so tame,
or such a glutton
or so sure of himself
he barely glances up
as I walk towards him
Somehow, this moment exists
here, in the midst of hunting season
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 
You have artistically blended tender and powerful!