Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • We will be freely
    Counting syllables on our hands
    In a laudrymat,
    Reading Merwin and marveling
    at the absence of rhyme & meter.

    We will be seeing all the people from town
    In there washing and folding their clothes.
    We will leave, get in the car and drive up the lake
    On back roads, cutting out of the valley.

    We will drive by peoples’ houses,
    People we used to know
    Remembering what they used to be to us
    Remembering who we used to be.

    We will see the clouds in the sky
    Dancing around the stars,
    And the moon big and fat and crystal clear.

    We will be singing Marley much too loud.
    We will leave the windows rolled down
    And roll back through town
    Sending the music out in to the streets.

    We will be cold cold cold
    When it isn’t that cold yet.
    It is only November,
    soon we will be crawling
    on our hands.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.