Writer. Demand Poet.
—
even just the
sight of water
is enough to
slow the galloping
pony inside.
She stops
to watch the branch
touch sunny ripples and
then
hardly hears her
thunder heart over
the sweet robin
singing.
–
I’m writing small … Read the rest “The sight of water – small stone”
—
The phone got silent
Between us. I chopped
The cucumber and
Wondered if I’d
Lost signal. “Are you still
There?” I asked.
You answered with
Your sob.
—
I’m writing small stones as part of the January Mindful … Read the rest “Lost Signal – small stone”
—
How still the house
Can be without
My son home:
I hear pages turning,
Socks sliding on
The hardwood, the
Gurgle of the baseboard
Heaters. These and also
Impatient jangling of
Nerves at once relieved,
Then shuddering with the… Read the rest “How Still – small stone”
—
how you adore the
Gloomy Bear, with his
Saucer eyes, and pink
fur. You don’t
Notice that he’s
Sadistic anime with
Blood on his
Claws. I coo
Nonchalantly and
Slowly
Close that tab.
–
I’m writing small stones … Read the rest “A Girl and Gloomy – small stone”
—
Everyday a pile of
Useless mortgage and
Credit offers land inside
That bronze and rusted
Mailbox I want to replace.
Except, when, like a
Semicolon, the stream of
Marketing unconsciousness
Is interrupted by a
A cancelled stamp and
My … Read the rest “Cancelled – small stone”