Topography
I've been mining the same hills
for four months now, longer even,
but never with such conviction,
unearthing shiny stones, one
much the same as another, and
placing them in my pockets.
They might be valued in certain
contexts, but mostly the reward
is local, defined by the limits of
my personal radius. My stones.
My collection. My scratched and
dusty headlamp and my daily
shoveling never far from home.
So the purpose of this blog is to be a space to practice creativity. I am currently using it as a place to record a single, unedited poem for each day in 2019. While I attempt to write everyday, I may not actually post daily. Instead, I will post poems as they are completed, but one for everyday of the year. Not sure I can make it, but we'll see. It's fun to try regardless :)
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Poem: March 12, 2024
No One I run until I am invisible and free from the tendrils of the day and the treadmill and the others who fill this space, free of my gho...
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Maintaining Some people won’t straighten their desks at the end of the day, but I do, most days, and I sweep the floor as well, ten to tw...
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Through a Crack in the Door Think of those times late at night, really any time in the long expanse of life when you are walking down any em...
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No One I run until I am invisible and free from the tendrils of the day and the treadmill and the others who fill this space, free of my gho...
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