windrag : poetry : journal

seeing both sides, the seeker looks beyond, and asks a stupid question

resentment is the bane of our age. look around:  if anyone seems an inch taller  or shorter than you, beware. encountering blame,  i bend to meet the truth.

my ancestors fell asleep, on chilly autumn nights, overwhelmed by countless stars. i count them on my fingers, between streetlights.

let the critics have their barbecue. my father’s out-of-tune, glad-hearted singing; the inelegant poem my friend sends in the mail: these are my rice and beans. http://www.napowrimo.net

a poem a day for 
a month was made, by many. my 
kind of conspiracy.