The Poet's House

#poetry

  • Canadian Ice

    by Michael Plante There is an old tin shed in the woodsits rustic characteristics give it poise and wonderdistinguishing notables’ hang upon the wallsyesteryears’ crafted tools.Our forefather’s pride displayed honorably. Thin saplings line the countrysidemoonlit walk through crunching snowskates tied… Continue reading

  • Running With Scissors

    by Michael Plante I can’t pretend everything is well.I won’t tell you my problems.Instead I’ll run with scissorsthrough a field of tall grassthat hide the stones that trip people.Maybe I’ll impale myselflike mother always said I would. Continue reading

  • Pleasant Memories

    Prologue to Pleasant Memories Behind the building where I grew up was a small wooded area with a creek. Beside that wooded area was a field with a small apple orchard and walkway to a cul-de-sac. On the east side… Continue reading

  • Sunsets

    by Michael Plante The only faith I have leftis my wife’s love for me and the sunset of today.For both have been with me for many yearsand have never diminished. My pride is that I took the timeto hold my… Continue reading

  • There’s A Chill

    by Michael Plante There’s a chill that creeps up your backwhen the full moon risesand the mist hovers over the hills of Carolina.In the old tin shed a candle is litand placed in the window to ward off the ill.“Never… Continue reading