Hi, I'm Ralph Fletcher. I’m a writer. For the most part, writing is private and invisible. In this blog I'll give readers an inside view of the writer I know best: me. Every few days I'll share my musings, habits, daily schedule, brainstorming, snippets from my writer's notebook, drafts, revisions, finished pieces, correspondence with editors and readers. It’s my hope that writers of all ages might find this useful.
Friday, May 26, 2017
I stood beside the night river,
water flecked with dancing light.
A gleam appeared, a moon sliver,
suddenly: dark bird in flight.
I shot arrowed eyes after that bird
til silver tears obscured my sight
trying to glean unspoken meaning
held at the core of a bird in
As I aimed my eyes, I thought:
This is what it means to die;
dark birdform winging, noiseless,
across a purple twilight sky.
Those still living left as archers
to watch that dim arrow at night
craning our necks to follow the
until it finally moves beyond