Remember the night
the full moon followed us home?
How she talked—only of light,
only of stars and us
here on our glowing planet
Remember the night
the full moon followed us home?
How she talked—only of light,
only of stars and us
here on our glowing planet
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