when you grow tired of darkness
notice the light, how it lingers—
six o’clock at night
wheeling the trash can to the curb
look up
Sky to the west
still bright with orange clouds
light lasting
longer every day
when you grow tired of darkness
notice the light, how it lingers—
six o’clock at night
wheeling the trash can to the curb
look up
Sky to the west
still bright with orange clouds
light lasting
longer every day
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: Poems by Mary Kendall
A Ronka Poetry Practice Since 2014
Living in the moment