Musings on Life, Love, and Linguine-Poetry & Writing
He does not realize how deep words can cut a fragile flower’s bloom until he’s said too much inflicting mental wounds.
Oh sweet bleeding heart with your wanton ways are you yearning to take me to my grave?
Being left-handed, I worked hard at writing well. A memory: First grade, a substitute teacher for the day. A regular elementary school in Houston, Texas. But that day I learned I was a spawn of the devil because I wrote with my left hand.… Continue Reading “#Haibun: Writing”
Oh Lord, my soul does weep for sweet relief from yesterday’s bitter sorrow for I know that on the wind more will come with dawn’s cold tomorrow.
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