R L Swihart


Thought for the day: Scribble and erase. There isn’t anything 
like “getting it right”


Before me: the beach curves out from the pier until it meets the jetty. 
Three jetties (I believe) but I can only confirm one with my eyes. 
I also see waves breaking on the shore. And the distant city 
(I paraphrase: from the late Renaissance on a more 
“natural” halo was preferred)


Water purling below. I rock back slightly against the railing.
Get a little giddy with a sense of falling


Couldn’t sleep. Many different threads (all 
seemingly important), but the one that 
kept returning was Ariadne’s


Got up for the second time at 4. Showered
and slipped out the door without
waking her


Of course C was waiting and I had 
to respond:


Via Instagram, the boy from The Gambia
sent pics of his family, himself
and his dog


Opened up a new book (paperback),
hoping to find …


Over coffee: morning darkness and
“waiting for the light”

R L Swihart was born in Michigan but now resides in Long Beach CA. His work has 
sparsely dotted both the Net and hardcopy literary journals (e.g., Cordite, Pif Magazine, 
Denver Quarterly, Quadrant Magazine, Salt Hill Journal). His third book of poetry was 
released July 2020: Woodhenge.
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