merry-go-round

The war ended, and peace was at hand. The people celebrated by making babies, a veritable boom of babies. But the old men had other ideas and they conjured new wars. And one day the baby boom grew to old men and started new wars of their own. Who will be the first to cryContinue reading “merry-go-round”

An eternal question of poetics

Does it become a poem whenI     place     the     words     just     so  ? Does poetry dependupon spaces andreturns? I hear poetry in an autumn breeze even if I describe it in a short paragraph, taking up all of the space between the margins. Is itany lesspoetryfor the margins?

on waking

There, did you see it, just then? I napped like death for an hour and a half this afternoon, and you almost slipped out without my knowing, but you whispered my name to be sure, and I heard. Now, alone, I breathe full and deep and feel the life renewed from sleep, rested and recreatedContinue reading “on waking”

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