Day One
To dream and discern
Such threadbare bones
As these
Bare boughs
Bone-boughs, a gaol
Of brittle, needle
Bars. Undone but
For some depth -
Or nuance -
Lost or leaving
Mere an icy gulp
Deep down.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Paint Poem
Day Thirty I like a poem because it's not like a painting. Because I'll confidently cradle something stainless; hold the exceptio...
-
Day 2 Simple fingers to the string What a little thing to cultivate, unreal as it is; not to be seen or touched but felt, enduring, where so... -
Day Twenty Fantastic style designs on pottery from Hacilar. Image from Yakar 2005. The ancients believed That culture was Construed by pot... -
So, two weeks in and I'm somewhat surprised to find myself sticking at this poetry malarkey. In fact I'm enjoying it very much. To...
No comments:
Post a Comment