I write because I read. I read because I write.
choir of crickets humtonight's final song, a clown sheds its mask, alone. — 08.20.2020©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. — For dVerse Poetics — Clowning Around
Piet Mondrian, ‘Broadway Boogie Woogie, 1942-43, moma.org More than a year I have been living inside this box with no divisions. Cream borders keep me company without judging my daily dancing alone and my full-hearted concerts on my own. Identical squared-rooms from my right and left stood the same size as mine. The closest left… Continue reading on aliens and cream borders: a haibun
Five decades of wandering, in every step perhaps your heels planted seedlings of words, of love, of wisdom, of life. So much of your history remains a hidden story. We're you a slave, a samurai, a cook, a poet, or everything and more? We can read scrolls after scrolls but never can we know. A… Continue reading the garden of 17 syllables: a haibun for Basho
(revolving earth undresses, each season unravels) spring, peeler of silent blue winter, blush in pastel young blooms, will then succumb to laughing rays of golden sun, salted seas curdle to scarlet red as autumn conquers the rusting lawns, (revolving earth undresses, each season unravels) — 02.25.2020 ©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo via Unsplash… Continue reading open your eyes, see how the world undresses: a quadrille
Soft murmurs say the end is near, this earth will crumble, disappear. Will you let your story end here? Mouths gurgling aged, frozen beer, choosing to leave peace's hemisphere. Soft murmurs say the end is near, tired earth sinks under cloud of fear, birds choke with vows so insincere, will you let your story end… Continue reading fading murmurs (a villanelle)
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