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Tag Archives: gray poem

Gray Skies

Early, fields and trees and sky
all gray. Anchored by fresh snow
crevassed along the hills.
The world feels magical
as if everything is possible
and at peace.

Gray, in this moment,
is not the color of sadness
or of something worn out,
but the color of quiet–
the color of stillness
inside and out.

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

Writing the Day

A Ronka Poetry Practice Since 2014

Invisible Horse

Living in the moment