Beautiful today. Truly glorious. Bright winter sun; air chill, fresh and crisp; snow on the high hill sides.
People–strangers–saying, hello; good morning; how are you?
Then, in the midst of it all, to be stuck by a monostich that I couldn’t shake until home!
Friendly people in the park won’t be there after dark
Non-monostich poems:
Thanks for reading 🙂
N. P. Ryan
To receive notifications of future posts of poetry—be they happy, sarcastic or sad—music history and reviews, the odd bit of this and that plus the occasional stab at promoting my books, please enter an email address below.
Image courtesy Brett Sayles
N. P. Ryan 