We Sit (Vickie and Me)

We sit
on folding chairs
in the cool morning air
all stories told, memories shared
Silent

Billy Collins

familiar intro
unexpected direction
humorous ending

robot haiku blogger

state the obvious
in mechanical fashion
publish and repeat

I've made an effort

I've made an effort
to render my poetry
less accessible—
I've revised my revisions
and removed the imagery.

My poetic style (Self Critique)

My poetic style

radiates the warmth of a

sentence diagram

Night Shift

I suffer this night
with the plodding weariness
of a laden mule.

Sweet Adelaide

Would she
Be pleased by this
Devotion to her form,
Or view my meager mimicry
With scorn?