In August, a poem can be the still surface of a cold lake… Dive in. Get shivery.

 You can spend summer reading poems at the edge of a shimmery mountain pool edged in ferns, or shun poetry and spend the hot months wandering the parched grounds of abandoned roadside attractions.  Choose wisely.

If you missed registration for the  August Postcard Poetry Festival 2016 and would like a postcard poem, let me know and I’ll send one your way…

 

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2 Comments Add yours

  1. I really, really would.

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