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In a Gravitational Meadow

RICHIE SMITH About Writing Blog Media Links Contact Search for: About Writing Blog Media Links Contact In a Gravitational Meadow  Watering the arid landWith tears, newsprint forms a compost.I remember my dead parents and abandoned daughter. I desecrate the tattered...

Blue Storm

RICHIE SMITH About Writing Blog Media Links Contact Search for: About Writing Blog Media Links Contact Blue Storm  Blue stormdirigibles rising. I crouch underblue wind.  Fertile is the stormsapphire crystal so dusty and blue expelled through rigid piping;a mechanical...

Lonely Bird

A fish crow perches on the terrace below me   tastes the sea watches the morning fog   far from her nest she cries for the birds she loves   calls out to others gathered in isolation   Gentle chirps Not a shriek, but a song...

The Lone Ranger

The lone ranger wears a mask. He came out of retirement, put aside his silver sneaker gym membership. Instead of riding a horse named Silver, he has silver at his temples, his thinning hair covered by a surgical shower cap. He has wire-rimmed glasses and a square jaw...

Many Years Later

RICHIE SMITH About Writing Blog Media Links Contact Search for: About Writing Blog Media Links Contact Many Years Later Many years ago, at the water’s edge, I played this game with my son. Between waves, we built an ancient land. I showed my boy the people in a town...

My Fool

RICHIE SMITH About Writing Blog Media Links Contact Search for: About Writing Blog Media Links Contact My Fool   What is a fool if not a spindle of spool fueled with my tools, gummy, the gristle still green as if the high road, leapt into my sole mate or whatever...