These days, all my dreams
are of being at sea,
far out in water so deep
distance has a different language
mysteries swim below me
while I watch the stars
from my small boat.
aka: The Happy Bookers
MOSTLY MONTREAL, MOST OF THE TIME
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
where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry