Out of the Fog This morning came galloping with a hot vengeance after I had only three hours of sleep. Oh, to roll time back, make the hours a black umbrella. Even the gas pump is impatient. When I lift... Continue Reading →
A February Stroll We pretend the warmth sewed into this temperate February day will stretch like a jersey sheet over the remaining wedge of the month. Mornings taut with unforeseen heat, afternoons lazing on record highs, evenings lolling on balmy... Continue Reading →
My Little Town In my little town dogs sleep on the street and act affronted when you drive on the bed. My little town allocates resources in proportion to priorities. We have one school two churches and three bars. The... Continue Reading →
I lost summer somewhere in the wildflowers, woke to trees blushing at my disregard, wind hurrying the clouds along. I should have seen the signs. I watched geese abandon their twigged April nests, pin-feathered goslings ripple ponds listless with July.... Continue Reading →
Poet Census Numbered like centuries of chipped stars, we stood, waited to be counted, categorized, divided like sheep and goats by poetry’s crooked staff. Angelou, Atwood, Oliver were lined behind Browning, Dickinson, Rossetti, their mouths fat with words, tongues thick... Continue Reading →
Enough This cold morning what you seek is what raven has. Nothing but sun on his shoulders. About the Poet: Tom Montag is the author of In This Place: Selected Poems 1982-2013, This Wrecked World, and The Miles... Continue Reading →
Poetry Breakfast 