I was sitting on the patio and noticed some ants, and so it goes... I was glad to work on a poem as I've felt kind of stalled out, probably because of being super-busy with teaching lately. Weeds, Anthills Did they crack our patio or did cracks come before in one or more earthquakes before we lived here? No one cares. It’s an old slab of cement with no one to repair it. Only I can see it with spring filling out the neighbor’s hydrangea and our mock orange.
poems, zines, collages, and writing classes