Dailies 1/31/17: In the cage a parchment that is not a bird whispers. A poet tells us about his writing-process. Another tries to witness. Frost stops to talk to friends.


My Process – Dean Young


Sometimes it’s like pushing a wheelchair
of bones through the high-tide sand.
Like giving birth to an ostrich,
an ostrich with antlers that glows.

Read rest of poem 



A Time to Talk – Robert Frost

When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don’t stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven’t hoed,

Read rest of poem 


Spaces – Jenny Johnson

I do not know how
she felt, but I keep

thinking of her—
screaming out to an empty street.

Read rest of poem 



hazuzeM – Landon Godfrey

A woman hangs a cage in a doorway. No bird. The woman sings. In the distance

Read rest of poem 

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