Grey hair in streaks, falling straight down. Friendship, translucent and strong as fishing line Books, stacks of texts, leaning. Paper birds, emerging from the wet, hempy mash Disagreement, and dissent. Chickens in the back 40. Raised boxes and their bees. Voice, a cool shaded pond. Bob. Tomorrow, empty canvas. — for Susan, Day 12, Poetry Month
Tag: poetry month
April Fools – Day 1 – Poetry Month
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No longer call it “Stranger danger”– Now let’s talk about the “Tricky adults” who chat up Eight year olds and their Baby brothers outside Emergency rooms (while a Mother’s ovary bursts)– Who beg for Help from babies. Two boys as vulnerable on a Bench as hatched Sea turtles on a seagull’s White sand buffet. Tricky adults who…