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Autumnal leaves
in golden years
called me to a
river's shore, from
where I set sail to
see anew

Through different
eyes, in different
times, a new world
appeared to me

With brush stroked
and palette knife cut
painted words, I
drew on feelings,
imagined and real

And on a raft of
poems, I traveled
to where it took
me


Eric Miller is a retired dentist who has laid down his drill for a quill. His work appears or is forthcoming in Foundling Review, Calliope Nerve, Short Humour, Bartleby-Snopes, Writers Bloc (Rutgers), Poetry Friends, Flutter Poetry Journal, Word Slaw, Poets Against War (Canada), Troubadour 21, Word Catalyst, A Handful of Stones, Bolts of Silk, The Storyteller, Stories that Lift, The Cynic Online Magazine, The Stray Branch, Boston Literary Magazine, Blink | Ink, Clockwise Cat, Oak Bend Review, tinfoildresses poetry journal, The Green Silk Journal, The Fib Review, and Shoots and Vines.

   


It was my intent when I retired to, euphemistically speaking, write the great American novel. Consistently coming up short in the story, I switched my focus to short stories.  A friend suggested that I convert one of my stories into a  poem, and it became the first of many logs that I would ultimately lash together to become my raft of poems.
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