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.
Tag: spring poem
Before the Flood
In the kitchen, I look through the window
On the east wall and see the sun
Hazy behind the new curtain of honeysuckle
On the barbed wire fence
And through the window
On the west wall, the grey sky
And the rain creasing brown oak leaves
In the ditch where the dandelions
Are sprouting. But there is no divide Continue reading “Before the Flood”
Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry 