Happy National Poetry Month, and Happy Easter if you celebrate Easter! I’m keeping things simple this year, because life is complicated (with moves, travel, work–mostly good stuff, just…complicated). In years past, I’ve done daily poems with unified visual elements, because I do love that. This year, though, I’m focusing just
Geese in a vee overhead is one of my favorite fall sights/sounds. But last week, a single goose flew overhead, honking mournfully. I know it’s just anthropomorphism, but it really sounded lost and sad to me. Save Save Save Save Save Save Save
Yesterday, walking into my critique group meeting, I read a newspaper article about a young paramedic who was killed in a local road crash. She had the same last name as a librarian casual friend, so I did a Google search, hoping to discover the paramedic was not my friend’s
Walking in the sand, we watched snowy egrets plucking up their impossibly skinny legs to stalk through the incoming tide. My poemsketches are generally done very quickly. Written in less than 5 minutes and drawn/painted in the same. If I screw up the drawing, oh well. But I will say
Continuing our Florida adventures…I loved seeing bird footprints in the packed sand after the tide rolled out.
I passed this shovel half-buried in the sand on the beach two days in a row. It called to me for today’s #poemsketch. I have such lovely memories of collecting shells at the beach as a kid. And it’s Poetry Friday! Visit Amy at the Poem Farm for the Poetry
Over the next couple of weeks, I’ll share some poem sketches written earlier this month, on our trip to Florida. The day my husband and I flew down, we went to see my dad. When I went into the bathroom, I was struck by the sight of my mom’s nightgown,
Today’s #poemsketch is from my day at the State Fair a couple of weeks ago. Very fitting as it is now feeling fallish here in Minnesota, as if summer is disappearing into the distance, waving a deep-fried goodbye! Save Save Save Save Save Save Save
There’s nothing I like better than a gorgeous sunrise or sunset. I love that it’s a possibility every single day. You just never know when one will spring up! Save Save Save Save Save Save
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National Poetry Month projects through the years
Small Reads Roundups (poems
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