at night, we look at art; women with long dresses and ladders leaning on moons, curled up statues fight the
dark evening chill—fog rises from the damp leaves and seeps into our bones, into our exhaled breaths as we
contemplate unspoken questions, from unspoken conversations with dead poets and philosophers and husbands and wives
spanishwoods 
💕
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🌟🌟🌟
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Beautiful photos to go with the poem.
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Thank you Timothy.
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I haven’t seen anything for a while, you came back with a grand entrance 🤗
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I posted a couple things in January, I think. But you’re right, before that I wasn’t writing. That’s a very kind thing to say Ted, thank you. It always surprises me that anyone reads anything I post. It’s just good practice for me to keep going. I do appreciate your encouragement.
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I always enjoy what you publish, a big fan.
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😊😊😊
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Wonderful Sylvia. Excellent still life and lighting. The photos, a perfect accompaniment, the words are ever so good “ladders leaning on moons”……sigh
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Thank you so much Brian.
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Each of the three sections feels like a self-contained poem in a way, with its own distinct observation, and yet in sequence they make each other’s meaning even richer. The photos also pair with the poem so perfectly. All together they make a wonderfully atmospheric piece that offers much for the reader to explore.
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Thank you ever so much.
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“contemplate unspoken questions, from unspoken conversations with dead poets and philosophers and husbands and wives”
Two things came to mind, Taylor Swift and Cornel West. Taylor from her recent Tortured Poets Department album. Cornel West speaking on truth. The deep thoughts lie with Dr. West. Sorry Taylor.
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This is why I love poetic writing….it can mean such different things to all different people, like abstract art
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