WriteSpider
I am a full-time writer and sometimes teacher.
My dogs and I live in Southwest USA.
A Rooster for Chagall
A ROOSTER FOR CHAGALL Where is it written that Poets never Sleep ‘til Dawn? Beneath the gate … Down the lane … Beyond the tunnel
WriteSpiderPublished 4 days ago in Poets
Dear Donald
Dear Donald, I first learned your name when I was a recent high school graduate living in Pennsylvania. You and your cronies were in the process of transforming Atlantic City into the ‘Las Vegas of the East.’
WriteSpiderPublished 10 days ago in The Swamp
the majestic night dreams of magdalena willow
the majestic night dreams of magdalena willow An autobiography may 24, 2003 graduation day i don’t feel much like using proper grammar, she said. i think i’ve had enough of capital letters and punctuation too she said a little bit louder hard eyes building walls around her teacher’s glare ignoring the red marks coming out on his face like she always ignored the red marks on her homework
WriteSpiderPublished 12 days ago in Humans
Tomorrow's Monday
Tomorrow’s Monday A traveler’s tale by Amy Lynn Reifsnyder October 30, 2015 Friday Dear Friends and Relations;
WriteSpiderPublished 12 days ago in Wander
A Day at the Zoo
A Day at the Zoo After a day at the zoo The children were asked To draw their favorite animal Or what it is they’d
WriteSpiderPublished 12 days ago in Poets
Retiring the Tent
Retiring of the Tent May 11, 2019 Amy Lynn Reifsnyder Part of my income is derived by editing academic essays for students in colleges and universities throughout the United States. One assignment for students in Developmental English classes was to write about an object – identify the object and explain what it represents, and why. I am going to write about a tent.
WriteSpiderPublished 13 days ago in Humans
The Children's Park
The Children’s Park By Amy Lynn Reifsnyder c. 1990 Expanded March 2018
WriteSpiderPublished 13 days ago in Families
Breakfast in Afghanistan
Breakfast in Afghanistan For Donnie We wake up bright and early but never wash or bathe. There’s hardly any water; what we have we save.
WriteSpiderPublished 13 days ago in Poets
