Hospital haiku. December 4–8.
I trim the stems of
hospital tulips with my
ostomy scissors Continue reading Hospital haiku. December 4–8.
I trim the stems of
hospital tulips with my
ostomy scissors Continue reading Hospital haiku. December 4–8.
i am unsure of the space that i inhabit my motive unclear Continue reading it goes on.
open window or door and learning to step through now breathe the new air Continue reading late night portals
filagree handle suitable syllabic count friday night haiku Continue reading lazy
unlocked as one can be opened to careful touching gingerly tracing Continue reading unlocked [backdated nov 7th]
approaching, she crawls for it is the only means of acquiescence Continue reading genuflect [september 8th]
a pallet arrives chaos and disorder, then finally some peace short lived, it will be for half an hour later five more will be here [I think I might start writing more about my bookseller/buyer adventures, just for the sake of variety. We shall see.] Continue reading adventures in bookstore land