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This Same Dance

Seasons and Time
swing each other onto the dance floor
once more.
These old friends, together so long,
know the moods, the moves their partner
has in store. Here it comes, now—
This July moment when birds and
early risers discover (again) how days
shorten, how summer rushes
past us and February’s thick snow
readies itself to enter the dance.
The birds are talking quietly among themselves
and their tone is bemused—they
watch the dancers and wonder
what they see in each other, this strange pair—
Time always hurrying forward, eager to
See Something New and Seasons murmuring
Oh, let’s stretch our legs, sway through
this familiar circle, remember
October, remember May? Come now, around again.

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