The sun finds its highest point
and quietly begins to turn,
but here, in the green dark,
the daisies don't know it yet.
They keep opening, 
small and white,
as if the year had only just begun.

Author’s Note

Near the end of September, you will get my scribbles every two weeks instead of weekly. To pick up the slack, I will send these poetry cards on the weeks I don’t post a piece. This card is an example of what you can expect.

Each card pairs a short poem or prose piece with a photograph: images from my own backyard and travels, or ones I found that perfectly complement the words. The forms vary: free verse, prose poetry, haiku, whatever the image and idea needed. Some arrive as just a sentence or two that refused to be longer. You are welcome to save them, pass them on, or post them wherever they might do some good.

Thanks very much for reading, subscribing, and sharing the stories, poetry, and essays in this space. If you like a story, poem, or essay, please click on the heart. Also if you are so moved, please leave a comment.

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