This Morning
the frost glitters
on the hard stubble,
the mud and dry husks
of the cornfield,
because above
the sun rose high
enough to light
the white and long
clouds against the pink
and blue palette, the
smudge of the morning sky.
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: January 21, 2026
Forecast Just suggest the possibility of snow on the horizon, and I become truly useless. The storm’s three days away and on a weekend, but ...
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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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To Sleep I think I’m looking forward. Who can say what’s going on? I sleep well enough. I’m comfortable, but I wake up from dreams that seem...
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Forecast Just suggest the possibility of snow on the horizon, and I become truly useless. The storm’s three days away and on a weekend, but ...
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