For newborns, from What Work Is.
from Among Children / by Philip Levine
There was such wonder
in their sleep, such purpose in their eyes
closed against autumn, in their damp heads
blurred with the hair of ponds, and not one
turned against me or the light, not one
said, I am sick, I am tired, I will go home,
not one complained or drifted alone,
unloved, on the hardest day of their lives.
poetry, publishing, and mentoring
A periodic, open discussion of particular poems
a resource for moving poetry
from lined paper, to Royal, to Smith Corona, to floppy disk, to 1TB hard drive...it's all a result of the passing wind.
Poet * Essayist * Visual Artist
A blog about books, writing and mental health
a journal of contemporary poetry
Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.
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"drink from the well of your self and begin again" ~charles bukowski
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"We're all out there, somewhere, waiting to happen."
Daily Poetry Fragments {Semi-Daily} 