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Monthly Archives: March 2015
“It is a terrible thing for an old woman to outlive her dogs.” – Tennessee Williams .. love comes in furry paws and sloppy kiss and bounding bliss that defies the laws of gravity. it comes in a warm lap … Continue reading
… there’s a mellow lemon melon yellow sun rising in this stubborn sky, ………and i have but a few hours to live and breathe in indigo. we’ll fortify our stands, add more sugar; charge a dollar for a cup of … Continue reading
.. In 1986, it was eye shadow. mascara. Liner. All in various shades of Electric Boogaloo Blue. We’d paint our changing faces under an AquaNet fog, clog our pores with Cover Girl because Christie Brinkley said so. Today I know … Continue reading
… breathe in breathe out …remember how? there will never be another right here right now. … quickly prompted.
… Won’t you come toddle with me a little closer to the sea, braid my graying tresses through your gentle storytelling hands? Let’s stand at the edge of the world and salt our sorrows, shed our fears into the breeze, … Continue reading
“To marry is to halve your rights and double your duties” – Arthur Schopenhauer … Marry, marry quite contrary. How does a garden grow? With silver linings and seashells and com -promise when you have a row. Mr. Schopenhauer, don’t … Continue reading
.. we scrutinize the skies, list -en to the forecast, gather clouds and silver-stitch our names along their edges. we battle drought and doubt and drizzle, trade dry land for the steady thwap-thwap-thwap of windshield wipers. we pilfer puddled hope; … Continue reading
… was naughty, any way. what do we care if it ran away? we won’t miss its scream, or squall or sway. we’ll let it stew awhile in its own nasty juices. no more temper tan -trums or lame excuses. … Continue reading
… we brown and brew, sprinkle and steep, keep secrets in spoons and abandoned crusts. we trust a pinch of sugar to sweeten and fill; worry not about the spill. …. quickly prompted
… a wee snail on a blade of green; life slowed down to a pace I can sync with my heart’s beat. morning peace: complete. .. . .. a shadorma, prompted by margo roby.