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Tag Archives: farm market poem

Old Friend

We meet again, decades later,
Choosing rhubarb and pink geraniums
At the farm market. It took long moments
For us to peer through the wrinkles and
Gray hair and bushy eyebrows but
Suddenly I saw you at five—
Long brown hair, schoolgirl plaid,
Your huge family, picnic benches instead
Of chairs at your kitchen table.
I remember your deep, scratchy voice,
So funny on a little girl.
It finally fits. There should be a new word
For this old moment
When time pulls back like curtains on a stage
And here among the spring plants
And baskets of ripe berries
Two people look up, cross years,
And say, I knew you in that other world.

The Novel Bunch

aka: The Happy Bookers

The Sketchbook

MOSTLY MONTREAL, MOST OF THE TIME

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

Writing the Day

A Ronka Poetry Practice Since 2014

Invisible Horse

Living in the moment

leaf and twig

where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry