Johanna Boal Biography

I was crumbled, like grains of sand
a boat, a canoe, a simple thing
made out of those trees, up there on that land.
I was carved lovingly, by tiny hands
...

I’m in awe by you being there
Stepping out at my front door
Your iciness, coldness,
Produces white, glittery
...

As we emerge, we can see them.
Some come together, hunkering down
Many are dispersed on their own,
Dark and hazy in their remoteness,
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There is a great attraction on our fridge
A butterfly on a journey from Kellogg’s
Never moves?
David from Florence, protects
...

Behold,
A sea bed with
Oversized edgings
Made prying,
...