Poetry Et Al
He recover’s no thought from nights past as his eyes trace a cold wet flow to his feet
The moon’s glare sings the night into a quiet trance beckoning shy fireflies to dance… 191 more words
1 week, 1 day
Suds of panic form on her brow as her mind travels through a goblet of time resting once in little spaces escaping back to reality where thinking isn’t hers. 144 more words
April Is National Poetry Month!
I said I will find what is lowly
and put the roots of my identity
each day I’ll wake up
and find the lowly nearby, 212 more words
Under the orange
sticks of the sun
ashes of the night
turn into leaves again
and fasten themselves to the high branches— 118 more words
1 week, 3 days
I used to be a plastic bottle
I used to be scads of masticated wattle
I used to be epic spittle, aka septic piddle
I used to be a pleasant colleague… 76 more words
1 week, 5 days
Rain-drops from the willow,
Petals from the plum-tree.
Reading the letter—
It has been raining also in Edo,—
The spring rain! 47 more words
1 week, 6 days
I want to spend a lot but not all of my years with you.
We’ll talk about kids
but make plans to travel.
I will remember your eyes… 146 more words