Sharply colder
in the night
while many slept
but
trust me
you’ll notice
the minute you leave home.
Something is changed in the air
Sharply colder
in the night
while many slept
but
trust me
you’ll notice
the minute you leave home.
Something is changed in the air
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 Poetry Practice
Living in the moment
where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry
