Search Suzanne Crone
Posted in Poetry
Ask her about the likelihoods
mother, walk, bridge, void, life, God, laptop
The energy between us confounds itself.
If this recent slurry of challenge, and suffering, rib-cracking loneliness is fruitful, planting so much knowing, wisdom for harvest, then I am in.
There is something about the commitment to the rake that speaks volumes.
I suppose saying, "Forget about Michelangelo," is like saying, "Don't think of a zebra."
Let’s say, you love to watch pots of water come to a boil. I will get you a chair, So you won’t have to stand for eternity,
If he became a bowl of cherries, I would be, completely, lost.
Here's a paintbrush, now go find the hummingbird and give her a refresh. Then polish the eavestrough.
The sun is never late–rises and sets as we expect,
As if it’s on our schedule.