windrag : poetry : journal

:: f : w : i : w ::

Category: poem


on the way to church, spring is a roadkill deer, and all of these questions


some haiku purists think spring is in the eyes, while some prefer the tongue


the breeze is not quite strong enough to tip the leaf into the swift creek.


as days get longer, so does the time it takes to jump to conclusions.

rainy season

having caulked the cracks where the ants come in, i hope they’re ok out there