being transformed to who knows what
we discover and we wisely cherish
this view—cottage full of women
with our gray hair, aging parents,
emptied nests, non-lethal medical
conditions Oh what comfort for those
young careless girls we were to grow
into this, all our selves
Reflected
in a loud shiny gaggle
of laughing mirrors
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
Loved it!!!
Love you Paula🌺🌺
You are amazing! I can hear that laughter and see my red face gasping for air as I laugh and laugh and laugh my way to the next get together!
Thank you for this memory!
Paula – Just beautiful! I makes me feel like I was there! Much Love Always!