Monday, January 23, 2012

Small Stone #23

There Was Sweet Grass

When are you coming
home? This town is dry dust now,
Please, I take it back.


There. Caught up.


  1. I particularly like these last two. I don't know if it's called rhythm as such, but the lines seem to be timed well.

  2. G. I write my poems to a form but not to rhythm. However, I am a musician and it is hard for me when things are too chaotic, so I am sure that my instinct guides me toward music. Some things sound better than others. I believe most of my stuff is written to be spoken. Thank you for picking up on this.


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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