Overcast

Overcast

From the eyelashes of the village streets, blue flowers, whose name I don’t know. I might make one up. A starling is building her nest on the dormer window above my desk—above my left shoulder when I’m sitting here.

I just started reading The Last Usable Hour by Deborah Landau. Her untitled poems are wonderful—no need to imagine names for them.

Broadsides

IMG_4279Typesetting my poem taught me all about steadiness of hand and attention to alignments. What a lot of trouble I went to for the sake of words lined up just right! I attended the recent five-dayseminar for emerging writers at the Center for Book Arts in NYC. Such a pleasure to learn, but even more to see the beautiful artwork being made of poetry.