He wore his clown face – brimming with big boned and jumbled features – and smiled. But his bug-blue eyes, when you looked into them, held only reflections of sad and shaded river pools in some other autumn, and beneath the surface shadows and shapes shifted and were unseen again as the beds eddied. In … Continue reading Again, back
i watched a wet cormorant on a rock in a tide pool, her drape wings seeking heat from the bleak october. and at noon i thought of you at your grandmother's funeral, in the miniature jewels of the yew tree, beneath lichen fur. i imagined you in your annie hall get-up, cradling a clutch of … Continue reading a clutch of gerbera.
xo poem and a pebble (voice 210820) cut-up/tissue paper 2015 https://nickreeves.blog/2020/08/21/poem-and-a-pebble-voice/
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