There is no black like the black of a farm field on a moonless night.
A scream — two bedrooms down.
No sound so full
as silence after.
— from “Beauty Tastes Better During a Power Outage in Prospect, KY”
There is no black like the black of a farm field on a moonless night.
A scream — two bedrooms down.
No sound so full
as silence after.
— from “Beauty Tastes Better During a Power Outage in Prospect, KY”
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 * Editor * Educator * Weirdo
Lifesaving Poems
Just another WordPress.com site
(poetry and other stuff, but mostly poetry)
Just another WordPress.com site
a roominghouse for the servants of the duende
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