this winter mist ...
like Penelope I weave
and unweave
a shroud of words
to ward off loneliness
Special feature: Myths and the Creative Imagination, Atals Poetica, 2015
A Room of My Own: Normal Life, A Soap Bubble
-
my friend turns
forty the age his father died
he mutters
*the Grim Reaper haunts me*
*like my walking shadow*
breaking news
at the first light of spring daw...