They say that itcannot staybut why would youwant it to?Better the bluebirdiridescentin a flutteror the bark of hackberrygrooving on the river. The world is made of precioustrue with breath and soulreminding me ofevery bit of soil – theyouth I came fromlife so glorious aroundleave the gaudy behind usdance to leafmusic of the frog. 12/2025
poetry I have written
Anne's mediocre poetry 