One Sentence Poems

Julie Reeser Between the Spaces Sometimes a smile is just teeth, Scylla and Charybdis, gnashing at grief deep underneath the eyes seeking auspices in lank body language as we meet and greet each other’s damage. Julie Reeser wanders from web page to willow grove seeking an elusive bit of contrapuntal narrative to spark her work.

Julie Reeser Meditation What is the distance required for the noise of children to mimic the ocean like drops of laughter rising and falling while church bells mark the hour?   Julie Reeser wanders from webpage to willow grove seeking an elusive bit of contrapuntal narrative to spark her work.