Category: Family
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Day 26
long ago atop this wooded hill, breeze tossing leaves, Emerson’s pages ruffling, a habitat discovered
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I 57
What is it about rows of corn stubs flipping past, electrical wires sagging in sync with the tracks, whistle beaming out to snow-flat fields, clumps of houses, trees so far away you think of desert, that pulls me back to dream-like chatter, long nights on empty roads? We meet again in this rhythmic void, away…
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Reserve time
Reserve time for poetry in April, for when the days get longer, we turn out after our deep hermitage, rushing too fast to learn from the budding world. Reserve time for poetry in July when the hammering sun tempts you to spend your best hours dozing, as the herons skim the river. Reserve time for…
Poems from in between 