The Evening Muse This is the description of my non-existent muse. My muse is not a tree a cat a dog a song. My muse is what was that?…Oh, that’s … Continue reading
My poems wear tooled leather belts
My poems are X the mysterious unknown
For today’s Tryout, Margo has dropped me off in chocolate nirvana, said “write a poem”, and split. Okay. No. That is not at all correct. She said “Today we … Continue reading
ghazal Mister blackbird makes the cattail nod. His song is delicious. Your flute repeats the blackbird breeze, and your song is delicious. Humans love to project their heart’s desires onto … Continue reading