Sharing Life We are ginko enthusiasts. Four of us gather at an outdoor picnic table, share a bit of news, talk about the terrain. The local one offers a few tips, and we set off. Solo, we trundle in different directions—no hurry, no pace, no…
Category: Miscellaneous
A Long Drive – Hour 6
Are we there yet, Mommy? Are we there yet? Soon, baby, soon. That’s what I kept telling my son who sat in the back seat. Mile after mile as we drove to our destination. Daddy. He was returning from his last tour of duty overseas….
Having lost
Having lost She relives the moment each day, puttering around the kitchen, believing there are still six mouths to feed instead of only one. The pantry is full with canned goods past expiration dates and cupboards overflowing with unopened Items bought on a…
Feet Talking
Prompt Hour Six Feet talk. They say where. They say how— far high, deep slow fast —you go Your brain says to your feet; “I wonder”, and your feet takes the lead— to wander. To see new things. to go— beyond what you already know….
6. Mornings Camping Ma’alaea
Cool freshly wet sand under my feet Not yet too warm sun breaking stained glass blue over Hale’akala, exploring my early face, directing shadows into every crease. Ancient lava rock up over up over Navigating kiawe trees kiawe thorns kiawe thoughts Turning higher sun hot…
Secret–1pm
I’m fine I’m OK Anything to keep you from learning the truth my dirty little secret I’ve fallen once more ruined my good work and the bitch of it is No one will know understand or care I don’t know how to explain it to…
prompt 6 (image – fogged window)
as if your breath could contain the world to bridge me to pieces of myself lost to you in the folds of the leather in your back seat staring at the world meant to join us in between all those moments we promised we would…
Hour 6 – Found
Their eyes met as they had done then the band began to play and her feet fell in step with his like they had done decades ago. They danced to their own tune their heartbeats making up for the lost conversations. The years in between…
Not for sale
So what makes you think I’m a millionaire? take a closer look at yourself because I don’t give a fuck? about your money your fame? about other people’s fame in my legacy? how many people you call devotee? Because I walk in power and purpose?…
?
I don’t have a title. I don’t have a poem. There isn’t one hiding in the backgrounds. I think we are both still simmering from an earlier interruption. Have you ever been in the throws of passion, just about to reach that volcanic explosion; ready…