alone at the table
the sleepy child eyes
a pomegranate rind
Published by
Matt Robison
I'm a technical writer and a musician living near Dayton, Ohio. At work, I love the challenge of using precision to create a single meaning, to close doors. In music and poetry I love the challenge of using it to find and open doors. For me, each is the antidote for too much of the other.
View all posts by Matt Robison
5 thoughts on “”
shimmering ghostly form
cross the autumn field–
a chilling downpour
Mr. Robison, your words; prose, lyrics, or poetry are one of the best reasons I know that it’s such a tremendous perk that we were given letters to make things with.
shimmering ghostly form
cross the autumn field–
a chilling downpour
I really think this is so engaging, and original!
A sad, but beautiful piece.
~David Fox
Mr. Robison, your words; prose, lyrics, or poetry are one of the best reasons I know that it’s such a tremendous perk that we were given letters to make things with.
moon gone missing–
this autumn silent night
street light lifts my spirit