Paper Poetry
Published in

Paper Poetry


Well Earned Rest in the Afternoon Sun

In ottava rima

(rough draft) Photo by William J Spirdione

I look back squinting, in case it was not
what I did really think that I do see.
Look down again into the eyes of what
was this red rodent staring back at me.
What’s in his cute white paws? What has he brought?
Some small and shiny gift that couldn’t be.
So painfully, I crawl off from this chair…



We are living in the digital world, covered in the autonomous aspects & tracked motions of life. Yet, somehow we are losing some critical elements. Keyboards, touchpads, & speech-to-text are there, but we believe that handwritten words on paper is still meaningful to some poets.

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