Word Nightsmell of sweet-aged wood, and curtains are a breathing. Wet palm of wave gentle-slaps thighsand. Not like yesterday’s brutal. The ribs of the room with their generous. Resting places. I understand where charity comes from but clarity? (No no-see-ums here in the white float of almost sleep.) Looking for a word, I’ve stepped into […]
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Recent Posts
- These Days I Can’t Seem To Get Enough of Greg Orr, His Latest Book – Two More Wisdom Poems for Hard Times
- A Found Poem – By Italian Novelist Francesca Melandri from The Guardian on March 27th – When All of This Is Over the World Won’t Be the Same
- In a Strange Time, A Familiar Voice in These Pages- A Poem from Today, March 28th, by Francesca Bell from Rattle’s Poets Respond
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