dogtrax

Deception, then: this morning's quiet is anything but, as I listen more closely, to hear:

the high frequency hum of the fridge the punctuated sound of the sump pump the whooshing of dehumidifier, cycling on/off the singing of birds through an open window the long sigh of the dog stretching on the couch the lone car, decelerating, a voice on radio the daily newspaper landing on driveway

I sit, sip and write

for #DS106 Daily Create

Even broken strings on an old broken guitar sing in deep repose;

the memory thrums - the hand strums an architecture of notes

Somewhere, that familiar song still plays in a broken key; its resonance, floats

for #OpenWrite

Inked words stumble on the page

What I mean to say is that a poem takes shape different on paper than a screen —

I am forever in revision in the words in-between

for #ds106 Daily Create (handwritten poem) https://flic.kr/p/2rhm1cK

Finally: heat breaks; we cool off with our eyes closed, drinking in the air

Her response levies passionate fireworks and exclamation points

A doorway, opened rather unexpectedly - the tongue constructs a map of the space between where words escape, our stories

(post-tooth extraction poem)

Night's tidal currents push and pull the shifting sands; sculptures by morning

Heaven Help Us: There Are Rivers In The Sky - Signs Of Life - Atmosphere Belonging

Book Spine Poetry for #ds106

The land drinks quick of the water gift of clouds; its parched lips, glisten

Fingertips dipped in silver nitrate; indelible ink

like shadows of the poems we think we'd written but left forgotten;

I'm tracing your lines across time to see what rhymes and what does not

for Tellio