Let’s get lost in a ditch
where the hoary bindweed grows,
where the sun is at half-mast
and the wind won’t reach our toes.
Author: ROMPoetry
The Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry is an interactive museum where the common person and poetry meld. ROMP is a 501(c)3 tax-exempt organization.
Cannot
North enters the story with one sweep
Of the wind’s cold hand. It bruises you
With its knowledge of You can never
Leave. You cannot unbend the steel
You placed so carefully along your spine.
But the wind is more than cannot. Continue reading “Cannot”
Without
Each morning has stopped being the same
Though the dogs don’t pronounce this.
It’s something in the sound of the car
Responding to my touch, something
In the sleep left in my waking bones. Continue reading “Without”
Pine Suit
Bedroom suit. No bed.
Perhaps there are other rooms
Your pine attire will match,
Though do not forget the armoire,
Which for some reason,
Is easier to spell than “suite.” Continue reading “Pine Suit”
Your Child
The stone in the acorn path invited you
To listen, like a child will not. You must
Learn to recognize the need in your child,
Said the stone. Look closely at me, take
A picture if necessary. Notice how still
A Tree. A Rock. A Cloud.
“Son, do you know how love should be begun?”*
Moving backward was the name of the first collection
Of poetry I put together. I was fifteen, and I typed
The poems on half-sheets of paper and arranged them
Inside a full piece of typing paper. Thirty-five years Continue reading “A Tree. A Rock. A Cloud.”
Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry 