Category : Poetry

Stories in Poetry form.

From Somewhere In Iowa

Due west I drive, across the great plains, past ...

I am a woman, the mother of all creation, ...

I don't write autobiographies. Just its situational overlays, twists ...

Deep in the January forest, in anemic sunlight, it’s ...

The walk tests me each time. The uneven pavement, ...

Since the bonds have broken, In the stillness, shadows ...

Sun on Block Island: from the inner rim of ...

The biggest trees ache with the most snow. The ...

The crocus is a smile on the face of ...

He moved slowly toward the door. They didn’t even ...