smoky plumes
all along piney ridges
gray becomes morning
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smoky plumes
all along piney ridges
gray becomes morning
Domenic Garisto/havau22.com / IF YOU CAN'T BE THE POET, BE THE POEM (David Carradine) LIFE IS NOT A REHERSAL,SO LIVE IT.
Flash fiction tales of humor, horror and whimsy
One Poet's Writing Practice
My thousand lines..
Where Legends Live in Words. A Digital Art & Poetry Wordpress By Linda J. Wolff
..... Just ....... Haiku .....
Non-factional opinion, fiction, poetry and occasional humour
民族音楽学者: Ethnomusicologist/Composer
Writing prompts! Mining your brain for creative ideas since 2016 . . .
Haiku, Tanka, Formal and Free Verse
one post at a time
A Journal of English Senryu
An eclectic mixture of personal essays, stuff about writing, stuff about books and far out philosophy from an old baggage in a book-tower.
Strength in Mind, Body, and Spirit.
Painting with words
until we are read all over
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!