one of my most favorite things to do is to play with paragraphs by turning them roughly into stanzas

Wendell saw before coming
completely into the meadow,
Louise up there on the patio
and another figure next to her,
pretty sure it looked male, but it was hard
to tell for sure from that distance
but he reckoned if he could not guess
exactly who the other figure
was he could guess the reason
for the other figure’s presence
at that moment. He really didn’t like

being rushed. He realized when he stood
in the woods with his nephew and his daughter
that he’d not gone on his walks like he so
often enjoyed; hadn’t done so much of it
this summer; blamed his intensified
passions for his tomato garden
and the last couple weeks he focused on
the cleaning of the grill; but knew
the relocation of his small engine
repair shop hadn’t helped and had the thought
right as he walked under the pair of oak boughs,

that maybe the guys he played cards with
now and then were right, that he should
go ahead and try to do something
with his grilling abilities,
because they always said that if they came
to the house for cards, because if
the season was kind and the weather
permitted, he often grilled up a pile
of hamburgers – not only hamburgers –
sausages and chops and such, like they
were afterthoughts, or adjectives.


About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
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