We probably should not have switched up the routine. We probably should have gone down to the Alley and bowled a few games and drunk a few beers and ordered a pizza and eaten it off the shelf that ran along the wall at the back. But, no. Erline wanted to stay home and watch … Continue reading Darrel
A wintering of her mind churns the gone familiars of ninety-two years? Posted in response to the Ragtag Community Daily Prompt cyclone.
Summer’s gone when poems lilted fibber tunes of one thing for another— self-wallows under willow-leaf— shaded frog-croak water— when bright little singings— liar airs clotting even water— enfulled a fool. Now, nothing left but winter— water songs sing ice— voiceless noise under leaf-lack willow shade. Winds shriek no name. Deplete There are several versions of … Continue reading When Poems Lilted