The Poet's House

#poetry

  • 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

  • Moon River Run

    by Michael Plante Moon river bay sleeps like an old manwhen the dead paddle by under the full moon.The spirits of our dead call out like a loon in the darkness“Remember us….remember….”Drifting ice melts awaya new shoreline is reveled.Our ancestors… Continue reading

  • The Infinite Maze

    by Michael Plante We are rats in an infinite mazeseeking our cheese to satisfy our hungerbelieving the next corner will bring us closer to our goal.Sniffing the air for directionrubbing our eyes to remove the crud that has formed in… Continue reading

  • The Cold Moon

    by Michael Plante A square stone made of onyx sits on a shelf in my mind. It holds the cold moon of December. The shelf is in a closet which is in a room, a closed door keeps the closet… Continue reading

  • The Demoralizing World of Social Media

    by Michael Plante After 13 years I closed my social media account on Facebook and Twitter (now X), permanently. The decision to do so came with much deliberation. Thirteen years of page development and postings, pictures and communications was weighed… Continue reading