Posts Tagged writing

Flowers, writes, and leaves.

Just over the rim of my screen

one or sometimes many blooms watch me

build my stories, record the voices.

While just outside the door

voracious virid leaves

pull sunlight

and greenhouse gases

to fuel their roots

and stems

and flowers.

Everything else distracts, the green world settles and binds.

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Typing to the end.

When the scarves are completed, the weft packed into the shifting sheds of the warp,
the whole cloth cut from the loom, soaped and agitated, washer-dryer finish,
cut and hemmed, imperfections clipped and made right,
only then is the trademark and care label sewn on.


A novel at the end — The End — well, there are similarities to a pile of new scarves.
Checking for broken threads, keeping tension up as long as possible.
And an editor’s like a washing machine, I suppose.
But all those plates spinning on their sticks
events unfolding because the characters are themselves,
so many ways of falling short,
the finish is never so conclusive as a scarf.


Work space, with roses red and gold.

Luckiest man.


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