smoky plumes
all along piney ridges
gray becomes morning
smoky plumes
all along piney ridges
gray becomes morning
Enjoying Life In New Ways
Poetry, Photography, haiku,
the literary asylum
Wherever I lay my pen, that's my home
my humanity in written form
Guitarist / Songwriter
Poetry, Fiction & Photography
New content every Sunday.
Tales from the mouth of a wolf
a collection of words about my average, bog-standard life accompanied by some sub-par illustrations that depict selected moments in said life
Tales of humour, whimsy and courgettes
π³ππππ πππ! π»πππ ππππππ!
to be worth sharing
Domenic Garisto / LIFE IS NOT A REHERSAL,SO LIVE IT..if you can't be the poet, be the poem..havau22.com
One Poet's Writing Practice
My thousand lines..
A Poet's Place | Wolff Poetry Literary Magazine is Publishing Poetry Submitted by Published & Emerging Writers,
I wonder what Electra would say. Do you have a burning nearby? I shall work to keep your patch free. Sometimes hereabouts (where a 50-acre fire scatters crows and draws cameracrews and worse, commentators) is cause for smug celebration over how big out disaster is…and no one thinks to say: hey! we just made lunch next month for deer, rabbits, frogs, foxes, snakes and those two-legged smokestick people come Fall.
Hmmmm…. I knew that bit on “morning” came from somewhere
Very pretty!
Thanks!