Poet Laundry

morgueFile She was born with a bottle of blue darkness inside her. When the light cracks the glass, shafts of ...

“ Cut corn stalks in the wind” video by Maria Wulf at Full Moon Fiber Art The howling of the wolves, the empty stalks, this is ho...

in rainland we long for snow but oh! the green © 2016 Jennifer Wagner

Grapes, mangoes, sweet satsumas, watermelon. Apples, red. My son loves fruit and drinks only water. We've called h...

My son's crutches leave double circles on the wood floor, marks that show where he's been, sometimes stuck, sucti...

All the best, all the brightest, wishing you all the finest for 2016.

When I was six my grandfather, Harold, died-- though I never called him “Grandfather” and definitely never “Harold.” “ Grampa...

When you write a love poem on the palm of your hand, the kind that's meant to stick, and blow it away like a kiss, i...

In the wild wood there are poems everywhere: forest grouse, bright berries, late blossoms, little sounds our feet make on th...

Author Tania Runyan surprised me by requesting to include a poem of mine in her book How to Write a Poem .  This work is a compani...