I roam in gardens where lilacs bow to me, that silent applause that special praise no room-filled crowd could offer. It would be a lonely world to some, no clapping no finger snapping, but not for me. I leave my shadow, dancing...Read More
Standing at the window looking between icicles I can barely see across the street. Crosswinds of snow change direction, pile drifts against the front door. I feel trapped. In the emptiness of necessity, play a game of Scrabble ....Read More
I labored for years, weary in gardens, kept snakes as pets and picked apples for teachers where flowers bloom’d in that same space weeds spread, where they’d share the same water, gathering grace in early stages of resemblance,...Read More
Where high mountains never recede in snow， Water chestnut flowers bloom and grow, Plum blossoms welcome guests with their light scent, Over peaks in flocks, wild geese hastily flow. Gentle light pours sparse shades across...Read More
Slice a baguette. Spread a tablespoon of mayonnaise on one slice and a teaspoon of Grey Poupon on the other. Slice a native tomato and arrange four pieces on the baguette spread with mayonnaise. Scatter Kosher salt and cracked...Read More
May your snowdrops thrive after the snowmelt; may your tulips bloom under an aspiring sky. Enjoy the tantalizing idea that it’s finally spring. In spring, when I always think of nature poems of Kenneth Rexroth, and relive...Read More
Shadows and light crossing the fields this morning fills me with abundance. Although ethereal, moving through the je’n sais quoi of slanting light and rolling hills offers resilience through this land of sacred geometries,...Read More
The risen sun is hidden clouds dark and dense the air saturated and heavy no creature is stirring but a lone man in swimming shorts walking through his garden the long grass soaking his feet as he inspects his resilient flowers...Read More
Once a modest home by the river rented out by the Park Service then not rented, then abandoned to neglect and weather and rodents then torn down, turned to trash the trash trucked to a dump leaving behind a blighted scar by the...Read More
I don’t see them If I did I’d scream scat And poke them with a pitchfork. I sometimes hear them Caterwauling in the dark Not exactly the scat of Ella Those vandals in my yard Attacking my bird feeders Spilling seed,...Read More
When I was a child, I talked of childish things and so believed everything I was told, faith a matter of trusting all I had to do was ask, no idea that love is not a blanket but instead the will to survive the clashing gongs and...Read More
HELP SUPPORT THE RAVENSPERCH
SUBMIT YOUR WORK
Need Editing Help Before Submitting?
Personal editing services available upon request.