Category Archives: Poetry

The Cracker

Pumping gas in Bartow Trying not to stare at The withered old cracker Who asks what I can spare

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Great Blue Heron

Steely reptilian gaze fixed Upon the amber creek Empty now of perch or carp To scoop into his beak

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Palm fronds whisper to the sky; Cool morn breezes gently sigh. Listen close and you can hear Wind’s sweet message to your ears.

Posted on by Jonathan | 3 Comments