Category Archives: Poetry

Even the weeds give us flowers :- Doug.

I am cumulus a dot Often stratus a painted closing in ceiling Or cirrus some careless brush strokes Ever moving morphing hiding glowering present absent Like poetry, reader, you make me change me lose me :- Doug.

O how precious the daffodils If I’d only seen them once! A child’s enthrallment is pure— :- Doug.

We don’t see them move But the clouds do Look up—they’ve morphed! :- Doug.