I call these short poems "Fragments" because they are pieces from other places -- comments I've left at places or just some doodlings.
Inside Out
She stares at white paper,
unsure, a bit tentative
at first. And then she finds,
or stumbles upon,
a stone to cross,
a stone to turn
inside out.
On Notice of “To Be Published”
These words from stones,
from a life lived,
from bits of data
infinitesimally small,
to pages shed by woods,
cycled and recycled to use
for beauty,
encouragement,
inspiration;
to help us see
what is there
and to savor the life
of the
infinitesimally
large.
from a life lived,
from bits of data
infinitesimally small,
to pages shed by woods,
cycled and recycled to use
for beauty,
encouragement,
inspiration;
to help us see
what is there
and to savor the life
of the
infinitesimally
large.
Pieces
The pieces are souls;
the shards, hearts.
The inside story begins
with a blue mist,
but warm.
the shards, hearts.
The inside story begins
with a blue mist,
but warm.
Spin Top
I once knew a man who
had a spin top like
the one the woman had in
her closet with a
window and
he loved it.
had a spin top like
the one the woman had in
her closet with a
window and
he loved it.
The Poetry Editor
I have good
friends, who
tweetly
alliterate and
alliterately
tweet. I
only collect the
tweets and
see what hatches.
friends, who
tweetly
alliterate and
alliterately
tweet. I
only collect the
tweets and
see what hatches.
Photograph by Nancy Rosback at Poems and Prayers. Used with permission.
