Addendum to a Cloud Atlas
Clouds are so ambitious—they're really going somewhere! On this page, inside the circles, are photos from my International Cloud Atlas. Colorado's summer drought brought on a flurry of watercolor clouds that peek through the background of this page. Free poetry included.
Because the heart is not made of glass, it can be broken & still not break.
Poetry offers an unblinking stare into a commonplace world, yet still finds distinction worth mentioning.
Close your eyes my baby poets. Rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye. What do you see inside? Name it! This is your poem. Write it.
Poetry is a sleek machine with no unnecessary parts. It is the sleek pelt of a wild animal you cannot pet. Poetry is condensed language, but it's not condensed soup
The seeds we plant are scattered all over the garden. We never know where they'll come up next. This blunt earth holds rain like a cup; long, deep roots tie us here. tie us here.
What breaks open the seed is poetry.