Stuck in traffic
which, here,
means on a country road
behind the farm tiller–
twenty miles per hour
Time enough
to notice
after this hard winter
last year’s leaves
tissue paper gold
on the lowest branches
still
Stuck in traffic
which, here,
means on a country road
behind the farm tiller–
twenty miles per hour
Time enough
to notice
after this hard winter
last year’s leaves
tissue paper gold
on the lowest branches
still
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