What Victorian poet got his start as a shoeshine? …
Month: November 2020
Sometimes just taking a pause,
and finding the itch to write again,
is the best therapy…
Returning,
not the former beauty,
of a piece of art…
Usually
I know when
I’m lying to myself…
Rush rush rush,
and try to get it done,
quick quick quick,
or you’ll lose what you’ve already won…
Riding the rails,
electric wind,
on iron sails…
The ghost of the oven.
The stalactite rounded channel.
Haunts my wrist…
To the bandaid from my wrist,
that ended up on the trash bag
I filled with 5 cent recyclable…
I’m breathing allergens,
it’s making my nose run
and my eyes water…
A weight hanging low,
falling from your reaching grasp…
Daily Poets 