As I said in a previous post, I came to writing poetry mostly by accident, when a key flew off my typewriter in the midst of a writing project. For most writing, I am typing-dependent,which meant that I pushed the project I was working on aside and wrote the following poem after coming in from a walk in my Minneapolis neighborhood.A
Song
to be sung softly in
the morning or before going
to bed, to the
accompaniment of a flute and an
ancient stringed
instrument.
Night-coming son
moon r...
Continue reading ...