To Witness a Thing (Introduction) I’m already laughing at myself, with all this poetry is business… ———————— Poetry is a the witness. The winter of a thing. Poetry is clearly not the summer of a thing. All sunny bright lacking in moodiness and darkened clouds as the last remaining hungry robin looks for it’s last …
Hunting Birds I have a love for fictional bird hunting, pretend geese, grouse and quail. I also have a love for tears, ghosts and lost loves. All things that you might find while trudging through the moors of my damned memories. I imagine myself plodding along in fields, forests and meadows with a 12 gage …
Typist This morning’s wood pecker taps out his soliloquy composing his poems with thwacks and dull thuds as I fumble with my thumbs to compose my illiterate tropes. © SB Joy, 2022
A Mazing Place A field in the plateau Homes owned for decades by families Property for sale and signs of promises “Future home of Amazing Grace” I don’t remember if it was a church or tabernacle Not sure if it was the first, the last, the only Right now its’ just a lonely sign in …
2+2=4 Two twigs twined between two branches reaching, breaching the rule of bark, stark naked, like our four legs tangled between heaven and the heavens. © SB Joy tangled between heaven and the heavens SBJ
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