poet

We have just arrived.We are standing on the south rimlooking down, feeling our bodies slipand fall away from us past the cliff faceinto that deep space…

In the thicket just west of my shack,under the heaviest of canopied pines,every day, all winter long, two does reclineand rest, and sometimes when I…

for Harold Herndon(Laundromat & Cafe)You could love here, not the lovely goatin plexiglass nor the elk shotin the middle of a joke, but honest…

To maintain balance of the soulIs our ultimate goalFor death and life are foeBut yet together strollBetween the stars and the grassesAs crescent moons…

Today's poem is untitled. It was published in chasers of the light: poems from the typewriter series, by Tyler Knot Gregson.What goodis a…

At the lower fence line under the starshe hears what at first he takesto be the neighbor's mare,come to investigate his apple pocket,but then gets that…

“Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?” – RoethkeIt’s time. It’s almost too late.Did you see the magnolia light its pink fires?You could be your…

In our son's young hand,borrowed from the ground in California,five acorns glisten and roll."Dad! These could be bullets!Will you help me make a gun?"His…

At recess a boy ran to mewith a pink rubber ball and askedif I would kick it to him. He handed me the ball,then turned and ranand ran and ran, not turning…

He wanted to hold back gas-soaked doves with a questioning glance;he wanted the clock to tick, downwind from this gavel and pew,from this leash, bucket,…