Well over sixty,
Dad built a barn by himself.
Now it, too, molders.
Haiku for my father
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Well over sixty,
Dad built a barn by himself.
Now it, too, molders.
I love poetry. But I'm picky. No one pays me to read and write poems. It's more of a labor of love. I guess that puts me in good company. This is a project to discover why some poems strike you deep, deep down, while others leave you cold. I've got some ideas, and I'm eager to learn. I'll show you some of mine. Maybe we'll learn something new. View all posts by Bobby Ball
Poetic Champions