Tag: #poetry

The First Time

“The older I get, the more I see there are these crevices in life where things fall in and you just can’t reach them to pull them back out. So you can sit next to them and weep or you can get up and… Continue Reading “The First Time”

Morning Tears

“The morning was full of sunlight and hope.” ― Kate Chopin, The Awakening Morning tears and last night’s rainWhite jasmine dripping with dewA lazy snail saunters, sipping fresh waterAs hummingbirds dip their beaks deepInto throats of yellow trumpetsWhile early sun peeks through uncertain cloudsWondering if more rain… Continue Reading “Morning Tears”

Lower Than Angels

“Nobody’s perfect. We’re all just one step up from the beasts and one step down from the angels.” ― Jeannette Walls, Half Broke Horses We sit under a tarnished copper suntethered to stones of transgressionsfor the sins of our ancestors are scars we bearwith every sunrise, with… Continue Reading “Lower Than Angels”

With One Final Breath

“When he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.”  ― William Shakespeare, Romeo and… Continue Reading “With One Final Breath”

Time to Fly

“Never love a wild thing…If you let yourself love a wild thing, you’ll end up looking at the sky.”  ― Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Three Stories Days of youth when nights never end a wild haired gypsy child-woman Silver earrings dangling gaudy… Continue Reading “Time to Fly”

#Quadrille: Simple Joys

“…and then, I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough?”  ― Vincent Willem van Gogh Although there’s not much to celebratewith what’s happening these dayswe can always find joy in nature’s scenesTwo yellow butterflies at playTiny hummingbirds… Continue Reading “#Quadrille: Simple Joys”

#Haibun: Summer Storm

“Barring love I’ll take my life in large doses alone–rivers, forests, fish, grouse, mountains. Dogs.”  ― Jim Harrison, Wolf False Memoir For the last few nights, there has been a cicada singing in the fig tree. The sound carries through the still night air, and each… Continue Reading “#Haibun: Summer Storm”

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