I write in the mornings when the seeds of flowers are just ideas
The abiding chancel of our Sundays is an idea
My dog sits beside the desk liking middle distance
I jot a few phrases—up river, low sun
Think of Allen Ginsberg who once touched my shoulder
Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University
this one is overly-sappy