As if his life
were a weather pattern
there was an
unexpected
stretch of calm
with intermittent sun
but the wind shifted
he’s overcast again
gray clouds to his horizon
occasional crashes of
swearing and thunder
As if his life
were a weather pattern
there was an
unexpected
stretch of calm
with intermittent sun
but the wind shifted
he’s overcast again
gray clouds to his horizon
occasional crashes of
swearing and thunder
there's a poem in every day
aka: The Happy Bookers
Artist
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