A Poem Comes to Life

The white bones of a poem long for words, flesh of their existence. Wily words prick, leaving indelible tattoos on the poet’s soul, squirming onto a page, punctuated with Rorschach blots. The poet splits into three: artist, scribe and critic talk among themselves. Kim M. Russell, 2016 My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads: The […]

Early Morning Words

After reading Jane Dougherty’s pearl of a poem this morning, I thought I’d give a circular poem a try as my response to the Secret Keeper’s Weekly Writing Prompt #28!   Arriving on winter’s tail feathers, Weather’s cool but sunny; Funny how the sun seems so bright. Light mornings draw me from my sleep; Deep dreams […]