{"id":74481,"date":"2020-06-28T03:36:11","date_gmt":"2020-06-28T07:36:11","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=74481"},"modified":"2020-06-28T03:36:11","modified_gmt":"2020-06-28T07:36:11","slug":"hour-19-tethered","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2020\/06\/hour-19-tethered\/","title":{"rendered":"Hour 19: Tethered\u00a0"},"content":{"rendered":"

We were born believing that the world centered around us,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It\u2019s confounding, really,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

when we catch this lie surround us,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I believed that the pink of my mother\u2019s tea was the only right way to feel warm,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But the beauty of being wrong,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Lies in the generosity of truth<\/span><\/p>\n

And youth is so forgiving,<\/span><\/p>\n

I could count the number of lies on the fingers on my hands, and not need more,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And how many more days till the world stops revolving around me?<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019m told, it takes at least three heart aches?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And at least four falls, before I realize the crunch of the leaves beneath my feet<\/span><\/p>\n

Is another pleat in the longing of our entwined existence\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Across the ocean a lady in white,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I think, she makes her tea exactly like my mother\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But each time I ask for another, it tastes a little different,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Looks a little red,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I dread, I would need another finger, to account another lie,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The wind here, so sly,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I almost felt my mother\u2019s hand on my cheek. <\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

We were born believing that the world centered around us,\u00a0 It\u2019s confounding, really,\u00a0 when we catch this lie surround us,\u00a0 I believed that the pink of my mother\u2019s tea was the only right way to feel warm,\u00a0 But the beauty of being wrong,\u00a0 Lies in…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":930,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-74481","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/74481","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/930"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=74481"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/74481\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":74487,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/74481\/revisions\/74487"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=74481"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=74481"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=74481"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}