RSS Feed

Ebb to the Flow

we have been
a chattering of happy squirrels
of dart and gather of
tucking scribbled words into
every pouch and corner storing up
for later
for sometime
words for where we live
numbers to reach us
Today, two cars—
one then another
became Traffic in my head and I knew.
Time. Time’s here.
to breathe quiet air, leave the
doors unlocked, unlatched
but time to sit alone, and crack open
black walnut, acorn, stone and notebook
Full of words I was sure we needed

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

A Hundred Falling Veils

there's a poem in every day

The Novel Bunch

aka: The Happy Bookers

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 Ronka Poetry Practice Since 2014

Invisible Horse

Living in the moment

%d bloggers like this: