Sunday, January 03, 2016

New Poetry by T.F. Rice


We use the same word
for tipping to and fro
as for a piece of
earth heavy and still.
Even rocks move.

I hear in the desert
the wind pushes them
slowly for miles.

You rock. You're the best.
You're awesome,
but don't get a
parking violation
in life.

Even rocks move.

Rock on. Keep moving,
even if only to let
the wind have you
for a while.

- T.F. Rice 2016

T. F. Rice lives in Western New York State with her family and with her creative clutter. Like everyone else, she is trying to find the right mix of work and play. Rice edits the long-running small press publication The Other Herald. Her poetry has most recently appeared in Earth's Daughters and Poieses.

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