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from this snow stubbled field
ragged edged weeds, distant tree line
all cold white dust. Watch.
A mysterious signal whispers Rise
to the dark foraging flock, as one,
As One, the birds rise and circle the barn
and your heart lifts with them, rises
above the roof line, rises above the silo,
rise and
rise and
rise till we are
out of sight

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The Sketchbook


Red Wolf Prompts

I came to where you were living, up a stair. There was no one there.--John Ashberry, "The New Higher"

typewriter rodeo

custom poems on vintage typewriters

A Poet in Time

One Poet's Writing Practice

Writing the Day

A Poetry Practice

Invisible Horse

Living in the moment

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