Tagged: poem 85
What Once Was Ours
Poem I still think of us as the proprietors of the Poe House up North In the field surrounded by traffic circles and public park Except our one corner with the tall grass...
Fickle Weather
Haibun A gray canopy scatters in a sudden wind. Sunlight bathes the parched grass in radiance it no longer needs. A moment later, one last cloudbank eclipses the sun. budding Maple yearning for warmer...
