last night
you filled the window frame
with light.
this morning, in the dark
you’ve climbed the neighbor’s garage
to rest on the roof
Another high, lonesome moon
last night
you filled the window frame
with light.
this morning, in the dark
you’ve climbed the neighbor’s garage
to rest on the roof
Another high, lonesome moon
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