Dayton Street Remember when diapers were delivered By a truck with a stork painted on it? I still see that truck once in a while, Like a sighting of the Goodyear blimp. Or maybe I made that up; Memory and reality don’t really mesh. Crashing the Tupperware party, I found more plastic. But far be […]Read more "Dayton Street"
Potting Up the Peppermint One drop of motor oil rainbows on a puddle. Limitless mileage of mycelial felt tugs at roots. Platters of map lichen spread across the patient boulder. Metastasis. Proliferation screws up to war. Epidemics. You’ve witnessed ignorance stretch boundaries of hate. When you yearn for peace, cut sprigs from the tub that […]Read more "Potting Up the Peppermint"
Clyde Kessler, poet and naturalist, lives in Radford, VA with his wife Kendall and their son Alan. Several years ago they added an art studio to their home and named it Towhee Hill. His latest book of poems, Fiddling at Midnight’s Farmhouse (Cedar Creek Publishing), was illustrated by his wife, Kendall Kessler. Smuggling Butterflies Sunrise […]Read more "Smuggling Butterflies"