New: dailycinquainAll contenthive-129948krhive-196917zzansteemhive-183959hive-166405hive-180932hive-185836photographyuncommonlabhive-183397hive-150122hive-101145hive-188619hive-144064bitcoinkrsuccesshive-145157lifehive-184714hive-181136hive-193637hive-109690hive-103599TrendingNewHotLikerswmbakester (51)in hive-161155 • 2 years agoPicking Through My Father's ThingsAfter his death, we di- -vide his life into piles of what we treasure, sell, and throw away.wmbakester (51)in poetry • 3 years agoMarch 3rd CinquainToday’s Cinquain It Seems . . . That no matter how long I sit here and stare at my screen, this is the best I’m going to write. #dailycinquain #cinquain #poemaday #micropoetry #shortpoem…wmbakester (51)in poetry • 3 years agoFebruary 21st CinquainOn Presidents Day . . . I feel nostalgic for when patriotism to nation trumped loyalty to leaders.wmbakester (51)in poetry • 3 years agoFebruary 20th CinquainSunday Morning Bowling The dogs barge out of their kennels and between my legs as if trying to pick up a spare.wmbakester (51)in poetry • 3 years agoFebruary 14th CinquainMy Red Sweater . . . Was once a scarlet hue like passion. Now, as love, it’s worn and faded, comfortable to wear.wmbakester (51)in poetry • 3 years agoFebruary 13th CinquainOn a Dare . . . At three in the morning I’d strip and run naked down the empty streets if not for the cold.wmbakester (51)in poetry • 3 years agoFebruary 13th CinquainFebruary 13th Burritoed (verb) . . . In bed with a dog pressed against each side of me so that I am trapped under the blankets.wmbakester (51)in poetry • 3 years agoFebruary 12th CinquainToday, My Muse . . . In her wanton way, left me to embark on an odyssey with a more able poet.wmbakester (51)in poetry • 3 years agoFebruary 7th CinquainIt Happened Again . . . A light dusting of snow seduced my eyes, my feet into believing the sidewalk’s virtue. #dailycinquain #cinquain #poemaday #creativewritingwmbakester (51)in poetry • 3 years agoFebruary 2nd CinquainGround Hog Day . . . I stood in front of that meteorologic seer spit hood in one hand, the other a club.wmbakester (51)in poetry • 3 years agoJanuary 21st CinquainThat First Sip of Coffee . . . Bitter and tenuous like kissing a lost love full of familiarity and longingwmbakester (51)in poetry • 3 years agoJanuary 19th CinquainSubzero Temps . . . We walk with eyes turned down. The icy ground beneath our feet, all that keeps our thoughts from the cold.wmbakester (51)in poetry • 3 years agoJanuary 15th CinquainThe Man in the Mirror . . . He looks unfamiliar— unshowered, beard scraggly, hair greasy, eyes suspicious and narrowed. #shortpoem #shortpoetry #cinquain #poemaday #micropoetrywmbakester (51)in poetry • 3 years agoJanuary 14th CinquainAfter a Dusting of Snow . . . I am reluctant to ruin the world’s newly found innocence with the weight of my step.wmbakester (51)in poetry • 3 years agoJanuary 2nd CinquainDay Two of the New Year Just a dusting of snow— not enough to blanket the trash along the road that led us here.