from the road look
across the open field
to the edge of the woods—
wild phlox, purple, white
blooms in deep green shadows
under the trees
Quiet
then fast between trees and road
a tiny dash of black cat
from the road look
across the open field
to the edge of the woods—
wild phlox, purple, white
blooms in deep green shadows
under the trees
Quiet
then fast between trees and road
a tiny dash of black cat
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