He was looking down at her mailbox, at the address there, nodding his head the way a person does who has found what he is looking for and now has no idea what he is going to do with it. At first Joanie thought he was just some tramp who had wandered a bit far … Continue reading Home is Where
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The Goat Knows More than He Can Say.
“At your leisure, Mr. Dahl,” Coach was smirking over his size thirteen polished oxfords at me. His oxfords were propped as usual on his desk and his chair squeaked as he rocked it which he did every time he nailed somebody the way he had just nailed me. He nailed me because I was in … Continue reading The Goat Knows More than He Can Say.
Why Does He Not Close
Why does he not close the window that last thin whistle gap the wind moans through?
Diane Instructs Hank on How to Make Coffee
“So, what have you done today,” Diane said. She held her coffee in both hands, right thumb through the cup handle. She was gazing at the line of the shadow moving down the mountain, slowly bringing the Valley from the dusk to a brand new day. She was speaking to Hank who had just staggered … Continue reading Diane Instructs Hank on How to Make Coffee
O That Rascal with his Tassels
O that rascal with his tassels, his garnishery and frilly finery O, curse the flouncery of his filigree, O, that rascal and his tassels. He wooed dear Gladys with his foppery; with sly coxcomb pompery he flirted his ruffling tassels; with brazen foofaraw doodaddery he pawned on my Gladys castles. With eyelash tassel moonery that … Continue reading O That Rascal with his Tassels
Bright and Sunny is the Landscape this Morning
1932, May 19 10 A.M. Bright and sunny is the landscape this morning. The apple blossoms lend sweet incense to the air. The lilacs, not quite out, dot the bushes with deep wine color amongst the clean new green foliage. The willows fringe the river with green. The mountains across the valley standing in majesty … Continue reading Bright and Sunny is the Landscape this Morning
O, the Joy: First Mud
O, the joy: first mud! clotting boots, reminding muscle, the muck we’re made of. Posted in response to the Ragtag Community Daily prompt thaw.
The Irritating Delation of Irene Jameson
“Irene Jameson is delational!” This was El Du Duboise speaking. So, you can imagine the eye rolls and groans from the rest of us. We were sipping coffee and Chai at Mamma Maria’s Hot Imbibeeri, most of us trying to prop our eyes open enough to proceed into a day of acute observation and rational … Continue reading The Irritating Delation of Irene Jameson
Eleven Days ‘Till Spring
There is silence greater than waiting for chickadee-dee-dee in winter-ruined thickets Posted in response to the Ragtag Daily Prompt tune
How to Dance
Empty all but pulse and blood from who you are and hope to be. Let drum, whose primal name is heartbeat, prime your pulse. Then walk. "How to Dance" first appeared in a collection entitled Dazed Part of Light, by Lee Robison.
Home of Have, Poems by Lee Robison 