Every time he tunes, the blackbird's singing, taking his guitar in flight
A place to gather words before they get lost.
Every time he tunes, the blackbird's singing, taking his guitar in flight
the cupboard is bare
bracing for effect: dangerous
cutting and cutting and cutting
found poem from the front page of the Daily Hampshire Gazette
Just a bit of wind dancing on the ocean's edge; a heron in flight
Deep in ground, rooted, the carrot bides its time, waiting for an orange shine
In the shadow time as the sun begins to rust, we settle in; dusk
Wander in the woods, where serene and beautiful greet you in silence
A quiet Violet, rarely announcing itself, at the woodland edge
On a pilgrimage to a mecca of music: that New Orleans sound
It begins, within - a fracturing, spreading quick, the thin ice of thoughts
A friend, reaching out, like mycorrhizal networks; supporting, unseen