you flow like the river through my outstretched hands; I would not catch you if I could
river stone 1-29-11
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Category Archives: aros
river stone 1-27-11
snow up to his 8-year-old waist; he dives in and swims
river stone 1-26-11
Santa still on window, plastic chair in snow; some things never get gotten to.
river stone 1-24-11
the cold of a grave claws at my boots
river stone 1-23-11
where black bear sleeps
the earth breathes dreams
dank and wistful
a dark moon calls
one glaucous gull
to sing winter.
river stone 1-22-11
wind cry, snow whine
tired and toneless winter tune
waiting for the pitch-pipe sun
and the soft direction
of a distant child
river stone 1-21-11
After sitting and obsessively writing for three hours, I cannot fall asleep. Why is it that I only get creative after dark?
river stone 1-20-11
I put a cake in the oven, set the timer, and went to search through my poetry for something to submit. The cake is overdone. Much of my poetry is, as well.
river stone 1-19-11
a shadow on the stairs
where there should be none
— a black cat asleep
river stone 1-18-11
From a small mound of snow emerges the head of a squirrel, who seems to take a breath and then disappear. Above the mound hangs what’s left of a bird feeder that the squirrel had demolished before the snows. Up and down, he pops and plops, delighting in the fact that the birds can’t get at his stash.