Category archives: Mulling

I have written a few poems, a handful, since fall. Mostly I am in the body, or reading. When the muse doesn’t bite like a swarm of deerflies, I’m content. I know I’m in a natural state, brought on by pill brain chemicals that keep me level and not strung to a squeak anxious. I […]

It’s curious going through a thick pad of haiku in journals and without reading the names, 2 poems called out to me by people I was already fond of. The individuality comes out in so few syllables, and the perspective on the world that clicks is still there, even remotely. Interesting. Poetry matters more when you […]