Inky Love, an inky spidery blob With sticky spidery fingers Weaving it’s sticky intent To bundle me up With it’s sticky arachnid threads To have me for lunch. © SB Joy, 2022
Matter of Fact. Cycling It’s hard to beat a day like today where fall is knocking on the door, the sun is sleeping in and the sacred aspen air is breathing me in and out as I cycled over four hills and three streams from the cool late morning to the cooler earliest afternoon. © …
© SB Joy, 2022
© SB Joy, 2022
© SB Joy, 2022 Cycling equals freedom to my inner teen. SB Joy
© SB Joy, 2022 I struggled with math way, way back when I was in school. This is what algebra looked like to me. – SB Joy
– apparently it was a jar and not a box. © SB Joy, 2022
© SB Joy, 2022 Metal prints available SB Joy
Enjoy! © SB Joy, 2022
My father had this odd saying: “I wish I had the bowl.” What, I never knew what he was referring too. The bowl, what bowl? What the heck does that mean. Like most things my father was an enigma. I knew for thirty years and yet I didn’t know him. During my life the bowl …
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