Awaiting words on the wind,
sharpened pencil and
yellow, short-lined pad—
the first leaf lifts
as I sneak a look
at the next page
searching for poetry
that feels good
in my hand.
Awaiting words on the wind,
sharpened pencil and
yellow, short-lined pad—
the first leaf lifts
as I sneak a look
at the next page
searching for poetry
that feels good
in my hand.
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I like this one a lot, John. Nice!
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Thanks, Angeline. It came just that way, so spontaneously that I surprised myself.
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That spontaneous stuff, where you write and you don’t know where it comes from, that’s the best.
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Beautiful one!
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Love. And such beautiful handwriting. Thank you.
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Thanks, Meg. All too true to ignore.
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as we do…
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