Arbor Artist by Carl Palmer
My three year old grand-boy, moody from his nap, drags his blanket to the patio, sits down to wake...
Read Moreby Contributor | Sep 1, 2020 | Poetry | 0
My three year old grand-boy, moody from his nap, drags his blanket to the patio, sits down to wake...
Read Moreby Contributor | Aug 28, 2020 | Poetry | 0
Those cows are outstanding in their field. The pun always tickles my big sister, Ella. She grins...
Read Moreby Contributor | Aug 24, 2020 | Poetry | 0
I begin chopping carrots, parsnips, and potatoes. Keep pace with the action on the classic western...
Read Moreby Contributor | Aug 19, 2020 | Poetry | 0
My brilliant and balding father had interests tending to the cerebral but in those years when my...
Read Moreby Contributor | Aug 17, 2020 | Poetry | 0
his only daughter was his son when she was his little girl she knew baseball football basketball...
Read Moreby Contributor | Aug 11, 2020 | Poetry | 0
In the grassy lot, July sun pours golden heat over a gazillion rambunctious kids dressed in...
Read Moreby Contributor | Aug 6, 2020 | Poetry | 0
The little girl in a red shirt led me straight to her Thicket, stood outside its shrouded door,...
Read Moreby Contributor | Aug 3, 2020 | Poetry | 0
the seedless dandelion tuft arrives on nonexistent breeze settling softly upon fluffy feline tail...
Read Moreby Contributor | Jul 21, 2020 | Poetry | 0
Standing in line I think, who am I kidding. At fifty-three, too old but still a sucker for the...
Read Moreby Contributor | Jul 10, 2020 | Poetry | 0
Nicknamed Aspirin, the camp nurse liked to hang out in the lodge kitchen up to her elbows in...
Read MoreNew Dinosaur Looks Like Odd Mix of Duck, Croc, Ostrich, Swan —The Associated Press, 2017 Because...
Read Moreby Contributor | Jun 24, 2020 | Poetry | 0
The ’51 Studebaker cranked around hair-pin turns, swooped through crossings, out-ran stray...
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