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Tag Archives: hopscotch
Except (accept) that it’s a circle, really,more hula-hoop than hopscotch. We’ve been herea time or two, my friend,where both the mad and the merry go ’round. And so we spin. Begin, again. :: In November, we poem.
this poem is neither here nor there,line nor square (one). she has scrib-bled her-self in sidewalk chalk, and then hopscotched across her own bright skin,left just one small skipping stone within. shhh.she’s still here,still stained. waiting for rain. :: In April, we poem. This is also a second … Continue reading