Comment on Priorities by Mary Alice Dixon

<!-- wp:paragraph --> <p>A gorgeous and meditative piece. I can hear how the "rusty swing chains creek..." I can hear the poet's "sisters calling..." Amazing grace and beauty. More from this poet, please!</p> <!-- /wp:paragraph -->

Priorities

reams of paper sit unopened – I plan a visit,   hope we’ll see one another, write a second poem instead of a letter.    rusty swing chains creak house fades moldy grey – no spirits come out to greet me. I’ve been … Continue reading →

Congregation

no junipers full of tiger wings empty feeders in sideways winds creak we keep vigil for redbirds wait for spring kites to catch in our limbs expose our roots to fresh air so our views don’t wither and shrink gather … Continue reading →

A widow’s tale

In another version, a knapsack is emptied on cathedral steps: a book’s broken spine makes its soft declaration. For a last meal, a soldier’s widow pawns her library, her back sloped beyond a future tense. A boiled egg for supper. … Continue reading →

Comment on Steam by practicallygenuine8b70493e17

<!-- wp:paragraph --> <p>intriguing, deep interiority</p> <!-- /wp:paragraph -->

Steam

I didn’t die—just got lucky. So many did; I can’t say why. A win on a needle’s edge, a sigh like steam. On the soft sofa I once sought, the past still lingers. Kiminobu Kakuta lives in Tokyo.

The Days of Yore

I remember the summer seasons before the war in the Balkans. There’s something about innocence and ignorance in preteens’ years, a fine line, at times hard to distinguish. I was still young enough to be naive about the world. Every … Continue reading →

Comment on Death Watch by practicallygenuine8b70493e17

<!-- wp:paragraph --> <p><strong>Well-crafted deep thoughts.</strong></p> <!-- /wp:paragraph -->

Comment on Just by practicallygenuine8b70493e17

<!-- wp:paragraph --> <p><strong>A serene marvelous poem. Bravo!</strong></p> <!-- /wp:paragraph -->

Just

in the Westward window, the moss-bundled branches intersect the stillness of the sky. beauty is not scarce—it lives in the two-portion pasta water; in the back-to-back toothbrush holders; the tinge of steaming espresso aroma in biting, beautiful winter; the candid … Continue reading →

Comment on Death Watch by starfishspookyc5be24da9f

Amazing poem

Death Watch

we wonder how we will make it as we fall into the path muddied by canine footprints newly fallen leaves a yellow topping on the black pavement the morning mist crowds my thoughts leaves softly falling on the cold concrete … Continue reading →

What shall be

            is whisper in the wind as my daughter, born over 40 years ago tells me to listen to the snow quietly falling now. We fall on our backs into fresh snow listen as the soft flakes kiss our faces, the … Continue reading →

The Bus Stop

He always sits at the bus stop. From 3 PM to 4 PM, without fail, he walks the same road to the same bench and sits. And from 3 PM to 4 PM, without fail, I stand beside him, waiting … Continue reading →

Halo Top

It was Michaela who brought me into the group, chatting me up at the coffee shop where I worked. She was the only one of them I ever spent much time alone with—and the only one who never made me … Continue reading →

Comment on Midnight Inventory by johnholding13

Great poem

Comment on Atlas, Rewritten by practicallygenuine8b70493e17

<!-- wp:paragraph --> <p><strong>Remarkable twist of the classic myth. Very witty.</strong></p> <!-- /wp:paragraph -->

Comment on Etched in Pencil by In Being

Am I the only one who gets aroused by poems?

Comment on The Closed Door by Caleb Cheruiyot

Wonderful

Comment on Seven Lessons Sent to My Son from the Afterlife by Tears for words..✍🏾