Country Life, With Kids and Chickens

nobody mentions it—
dried corn cob in the yard
half chewed by dog or chicken or
some mysterious other
Step over it
but bend to pick up
skein of pale pink yarn
nestled in the grass.
Laugh.

Leave a comment

A Hundred Falling Veils

there's a poem in every day

The Novel Bunch

aka: The Happy Bookers

Red Wolf Prompts

I came to where you were living, up a stair. There was no one there.--John Ashberry, "The New Higher"

typewriter rodeo

custom poems on vintage typewriters

A Poet in Time

One Poet's Writing Practice: Poems by Mary Kendall

Writing the Day

A Ronka Poetry Practice Since 2014

Invisible Horse

Living in the moment