A place to gather words before they get lost.
On a long walk through woods, I notice only your natural beauty,
but beneath your dress of wood and rock - your back now bent
from the burdens of time and use; our footprints, the weight of the weary,
long, now, these years, and also, worn down to fragile bone - you sigh the sigh of heavens
Desolation; a sad song the night wind sings before the mourning
When situated in a cozy corner, lit with book and a beer
A tender flower, grown, in glass vase, with beauty, but now bent, with age
Wandering the field, pondering the plentiful corn husks; a graveyard
Bricks, held tight with words
This tower reaches over voices, heard
Along the outlook of the valley,
speckled by hawks in flight
We walk by day; We write by night
inspired by the Poet's Seat Tower in Western Massachusetts for #writeacrossamerica
Wood Anatomy
On the glass, the anatomist works a focused kind of magic and wonder
pressing threads of cells and fiber, culled from deep within, under
the skin of bark — the dark, glows with light and filament
A frozen window to the past, a glimpse inside the infinite
Inspired by https://sweetgum.nybg.org/science/vh/media-search/multimedia-list/?ResSubType=Photomicrograph&DetSubject_tab=wood%20anatomy for #writeacrossamera
A few of these words always seem to slide inside the haystack; needles
Tubes connect these trees - networks of the overground; In Spring, maple flows
All these poems, falling with the rustle of the wind; Listen to them sing
for Algot