a poem
One morning, curious, I glanced into a looking glass, and to my great surprise, what…
In the month of the mud,Snow, the crafty magician, hurries off to better places…
Anger? — Boiling!Door? — Slammed shut!Tears? — Pouring down the tearless waterfall duct…
The lingering poet Was not lingering at allWhen the poet’s eye filtered, Through the prism…
A poem
She wondered — Perhaps love only happens in fairy Lands — Always too distantIn this…
In my spouse’s head