Poet Laundry

  surrounded by magenta petunias and my friday night lights   it’s patio-perfect in spring   my footfall and yours tiptoei...

  Think of yourself like April. Everyone waiting for you to arrive, one hand on your hip, throwing blossoms over your shoulder w...

  They say one becomes euphoric just before death.   It was January, but the flowerboxes were filling too quickly with snow.  ...