Best Wringing Poems

Daylight drags its feet,
its slippers are grey and pad silently.
Long after dawn
night keeps rolling over in its grave
refusing to die or give way.

Bats flutter listlessly in twilit belfries
somewhere upon a moonlit pond
a trout is crossing over a fishy Rubicon.
It is belly-up, a mottled death gleams
upward...

Continue reading...

A squirrel got into the homestead,
it picked a lock with a dry thorn.
The smell of dank fur clung.

We carried small talk above our heads.
Nothing put away but still dangles.
Denim droops, snagging
the arms of rumpled shadows,
fusty jeans gander and loll.
Calico and cotton are rescued
the soggy separated
from...

Continue reading...