Archives
- June 2025
- March 2025
- June 2022
- November 2021
- September 2021
- February 2021
- January 2021
- December 2020
- November 2020
- October 2020
- June 2020
- April 2019
- March 2019
- May 2018
- February 2018
- August 2017
- July 2017
- June 2017
- April 2017
- January 2017
- December 2016
- November 2016
- July 2016
- May 2016
- January 2016
- November 2015
- September 2015
- June 2015
- May 2015
- April 2015
- October 2014
- June 2014
- May 2014
- April 2014
- March 2014
- February 2014
- January 2014
- December 2013
- November 2013
- October 2013
- September 2013
- August 2013
- July 2013
- June 2013
- May 2013
- April 2013
- March 2013
- February 2013
- January 2013
- December 2012
- November 2012
- October 2012
- September 2012
- August 2012
- July 2012
- June 2012
- May 2012
- April 2012
-
Join 1,550 other subscribers
Blogroll
Category Archives: small stone
small stone 1/23/2013
I love most the stories of saints that once rolled in the mud.
A Voice
A voice is a voice threaded through and chosen by words. Or the voice chooses the words. In a fusing this intimate, who can say which is which? This is not a chicken-and-egg clichéd question, because there is no answer. Today, I remember oranges, limes, … Continue reading
small stone 1/21/2013
I should celebrate snow, each flake an individual marvel. I wonder who exactly it was that compared each snowflake to another in a blizzard to state with authority that each arrangement of molecules per flake is unique. Eventually the pattern … Continue reading
01/17/2013 small stone
Today is empty, flown. I used to collect cicada skins, nymphal exoskeleton split down the back, allowing exit of a winged adult. That is what today is–the shape of a day, but hollow, light, and what was living gone from it. Not … Continue reading
Posted in small stone
10 Comments
Small Stone 1/16/2013
I taste desperation disguised as passion in his kiss. See me. Want me. Need only me because I need.
Posted in small stone
15 Comments
Small Stone 1/15/2013
We look for what is lost, that innocence from the garden; the place we were removed from for the price of knowing. But I have seen the promise of Eden, its beauty, the wild held in the eyes of eagles; … Continue reading
Small stone 1/14
The finch is quiet, though still wings remember heat– arcs of flight fading
Susan Daniels Poetry 