on this morning’s walk—
two of them, dashing through treetops
Chaser and Chased and
in his small gray mouth
the Chaser carried a stick …
Join me to contemplate,
speculate,
wonder along
on this morning’s walk—
two of them, dashing through treetops
Chaser and Chased and
in his small gray mouth
the Chaser carried a stick …
Join me to contemplate,
speculate,
wonder along
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
