Friendship is a way of life, it happens for a reason. It crosses all lines and is in every season. It loves and cares, it hopes and shares. It moves and dances, it gives second chances. It hopes and dreams, it last forever it seems….
Category: Miscellaneous
Fin
Finished the half marathon. Good luck to the marathon poem writers. I don’t think I could ever do that. I added a 13th poem this last hour. It is a revision of a previous poem. I wrote about food and restaurants. I told my husband…
Hour 8 -Pantoum-Bloodshed in our Streets
Why every summer is there is bloodshed in the streets? We have to go on to our parties, weddings, and vacations. Another birthday to celebrate, as we hug our families extra tight. Just another day in the middle east, east coast, west coast fight. …
cycles
i was once winged no ties no tags no loose ends rather free now tied and tagged i’m obsessed i’d rather be free but i’m fried and weak i’m quite obsessed as if entranced i’m close to weak – yet i can taste moksh i’m…
Hour 11 – Prompt 11 – My identity, my roots
“Where is your home? Where are you from?” I can tell my current address, but is it home? I can tell where I lived, names of numerous cities With my father serving in the army Our location changed every 6 months We lived in thirty-eight…
Poem 12 — 12 Hour Solitude
Spare me the glory, Because I am in a panic Over the Moon following me down the interstate, Accelerating the Jeep I invested In to travel the lake, It’s calling my name, Screaming for met rest my breastbone on bae. I long to enjoy the…
Prompt Hour Twelve–eight words
I’ve Been Downhearted, Babe Blues moves my soul like no other sound, a feeling so low, so soulfully crooned, will lift me back up into the profound. The laced canopy in the light of the moon of soaring sycamore trees stitched the night sky into mystery, and for a…
At the end of the John Muir Trail
Sitting on rocks above the alpine lake our spare dinner eaten under a canopy of high sierra sky, we waited for the full moon to rise. We planned at the end of our 30 day trek to climb the back end of of Mt Whitney…
8 pm
a dance with grief, solitary steps towards the partner you never wanted to meet. stepping in, bowing out, a bit closer and then dash away to measure, examine, evaluate, and incorpirate this small pain into who you are today. never the whole heartache, only fragments…
Third wheel
The moonlight reflecting off the glassy lake surface shines light on her breastbone. Instinctively, she panics, out of habit, nothing more. She lies her head back on her blanket as she looks at the stars. And he watches her, in all her glory,…