Poetry
June 28, 2024
I mostly run on gravel roads, the kind that promise solitude and dust. My pace has slowed, as has most of life, become more of a quiet watching than a frenzied doing. I am less Read more…
Poetry
Five
Five can be An awkward number, Sharp edges and curves All at once. There is nothing even And measured With five, One side always outnumbers the other, One partnerless outlier. But five is prime, Divisible Read more…