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Jo McCrory is a writer and artist living in northern California.
Category: Poetry
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So yesterday’s haiku was fun, yeah? Bad days happen. Let’s move on! I’m having an intense sense memory as I type this: the room I’m in suddenly smells like the library I went to as a child. Odd. Hello, old SPL. I miss your old book smell and hiding in the YA stacks upstairs reading…
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Coffee beans and wet inkEucalyptus and lavender Oyster shells and chestnutsPine needles and ivoryRipe cherries picked from the treeBlueberry stained fingersafter you plunder a wild bushSunscreen, mountain airLake water skinWood smoke cologneFive days gone since a shaveDirt under your nails on your shins in your hairYou are alive, triumphantan extension of the mountain’s peak reaching…
loose threads 