Musings on Life, Love, and Linguine-Poetry & Writing
Let not a single drop of this fine vintage pour slip from the Goddess’s lips and fall upon the floor.
February 18,1994 Chilling cold, a slate grey day. As we step from the hearse the rain, with an audible sigh of relief from the burgeoning sky, begins. People come forward, offer umbrellas. Nothing penetrates the mask I wear, not the rain, not the cold,… Continue Reading “#Haibun: Death”
Standing under burgeoning boughs Air thick with weight of morning rain I recall your murmursĀ and marvel how I still feel your soulful pain.
Ā There is a newfound strength within me, though still fragile.” -Journal excerpt dated 6/12/87 The pain was hot, piercingly fresh I was young and little did I know it was only an ounce of tender flesh of what it would take for me… Continue Reading “An Ounce of Flesh”
We walk the streets of Paris for eternity, not caring what day or time it is. Magical moments catching the light in golden drenched photos. You buy me a bouquet of red and white roses. Returning to our flat we take a self-portrait in… Continue Reading “#Haibun: Paris and Roses”
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