Poetry In 2015, 2016, 2017 and now, 2018

Just a thought.  Usually while I’m hiking alone, the voice that lives inside my head is a poetic voice.  I have no particular training.  Nothing makes me an expert.  I’m just saying that this is how I hear my own voice.  So, instead of ignoring it, over the next while, I’m going to make a record of my words.  I still haven’t published all of my Ginsberg response poems, but maybe I’ll get back to that as well.  It’s a perfect evening to put on a pot of clam chowder.  There is a fierce wind outside and I’m feeling blessed to be indoors in the quiet, with my dog, Max, under the computer desk, chin perched on my feet.  Now, to begin.

January 24 Pot Luck and Winter Words to Live By 021

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