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Tag Archives: writing on writing
.. she’s neither new nor wow, but she makes it some -how. breathes. believes. listens to the trees. pens imperfect poems. .. In November, we poem.
.. this poem may be habit-forming, causing the need to read others, wrestle pen. it’s a gateway scribble, really, that first taste of rhythm-rhyming zen you didn’t know you needed. to breathe. a smudge of sky. a wisp of why. … Continue reading
she tries these wayward voices on for size, pens up and down the ivories to see the light and seize the dawn. she cries when the words won’t come, when they flit and fray and tease her from the shadows. … Continue reading
, the world comes at us, fast and fierce and long and loud. we lower our voices, raise our (s)words. ..
Shiny object, laundry pile, random pic to make her smile. Running squirrel or wayward breeze, playin’ puppy, ruffled trees. Dirty dishes, diapers, kids; Tupperware…can’t find the lids. Kitten purr and yummy snacks, legos loose in stacks and stacks. Online news … Continue reading