there are doors we are
there are doors we are
meant to leave open
and there are doors we are
supposed to close.
Deciding which one
you are
right this minute
standing on the threshold of?
Work of a lifetime.
there are doors we are
there are doors we are
meant to leave open
and there are doors we are
supposed to close.
Deciding which one
you are
right this minute
standing on the threshold of?
Work of a lifetime.
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
Where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry.
