In penmanship class,

Dave BontaJanuary 14, 2017epigrams and conundrums, meadow

A blurry, twisted wild grape tendril in the foreground, with the snowy meadow full of straight stalks in the background.

time itself was looped, recursive, as my vision blurred and fingers cramped around the cursèd pen.

Published by Dave Bonta

I live in an Appalachian hollow in the Juniata watershed of central Pennsylvania, and spend a great deal of time walking in the woods. My books of poetry include FAILED STATE: HAIBUN, ICE MOUNTAIN: AN ELEGY, BREAKDOWN: BANJO POEMS, and ODES TO TOOLS. View all posts by Dave Bonta

2 Comments

mary mccloskey says:

January 14, 2017 at 11:44 am

terrific! I love this.

Reply
1. Dave Bonta says:
  
  January 15, 2017 at 3:18 pm
  
  Thanks!
  
  Reply

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Enter your comment here...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Email (required) (Address never made public)

Name (required)

Website

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Google account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.