| talk | ||||
| desert | ||||
| deepens | day | |||
| drifts | ||||
| west | ||||
| cool | ||||
| prose | ||||
| sand | ||||
| morn | ||||
| crossroads | ||||
| family | ||||
| 1957 | ||||
| trunk | ||||
| $300 | bra-pinned | |||
| Route | ||||
| 66 | ||||
| Los Angeles | cures | |||
| ocean | ||||
| butterfly | ||||
| tomato | ||||
| sunrise | ||||
| donkey | birds | emerge | ||
| cowboy | hat | floats | salt | sweet |
| evening | hills | |||
| angel | hovers | |||
| sky | metallic | blue | ||
| orange | ||||
| sea | falls | ten-pound | raindrops | |
| children | embrace | |||
| across | country | blows | highway | |
| tumbleweed | ||||
| train | side | |||
| winds | ||||
| south | ||||
| distance | ||||
| silver | ||||
| water | ||||
| ardor | breeze |
66 Breaths of Barstow for Babs
The Coming of the Toads 
I miss your poetry Joe!
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Hey, Debby. Hope all’s well. Poetry everywhere. It’s raining poems. Need umbrella.
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Autumn
leaves
f
a
l
l
red
brown
yellow
children
r u n
through
s
c a t
t e d
e r
leaves
wait
for the rake
winds
b l o w
dad
runs with
the rake
children h
i
d
e
mom brings hot
chocolate
children peek
out
S… L… O… W… L… Y…
come
out
come
out
wherever
you are
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Hey, Barb. Thanks for reading and comment poem. WordPress is converting the Excel format to regular text. It’s still directional, but it lost its concrete poem quality of the original. It shows up ok when pasted, but then it goes back to default when published. There’s not a pre-format option in the comment boxes. Still, it’s a fun poem, even if it lost all your hard work on the concrete poem structure!
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You are correct! No matter, I had fun creating it! I think I like this concrete poem structure. I read your articles and they were interesting. I will try to do more. thanks for your comment.
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Very evocative! The space between words allows for all sorts of associations to emerge, and the words themselves have more weight, like pebbles dropped into a pool.
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Lovely how the pauses and silences make space for evocative scenes, stories.
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There are enough stories there to fill a novel. Steinbeck wrote one.
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Nice. Very nice !
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Thx, Bill. Glad my fall on the concrete came up bouncing.
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