This grave or prison, the heart—
who could remember
what it was like to be released?
I went with a bottle or two
hunting for friends.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 28 March 1660.
I live in an Appalachian hollow in the Juniata watershed of central Pennsylvania, and spend a great deal of time walking in the woods. Here’s a bio. All of my writing here is available for reuse and creative remix under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. For attribution in printed material, my name (Dave Bonta) will suffice, but for web use, please link back to the original. Contact me for permission to waive the “share alike” provision (e.g. for use in a conventionally copyrighted work).