TIERCE
–for RMG
Every morning, the floor rises
to receive me. The door is petals
of ivory, dewed in the warmth of dawn.
I enter, disrobed, like a prayer
stepping out over our tongues.
TIERCE
–for RMG
Every morning, the floor rises
to receive me. The door is petals
of ivory, dewed in the warmth of dawn.
I enter, disrobed, like a prayer
stepping out over our tongues.
HOMESCHOOLING MOTHER OF 5, ALL THINGS DOMESTIC, MY CRAZY LIFE
poems, and the poet who poems them
(Somewhat) Daily News from the World of Literary Nonfiction
It's always about writing...
Co-author of Mapping the Valley
Freelance Creative Professional
Writer * Reader * Editor
Lifesaving Poems
Just another WordPress.com site
(The poetry blog of Grant Clauser)
Just another WordPress.com site
a roominghouse for the servants of the duende
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