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Tag Archives: morning poems
we can rue this day all we want, rant its shortcomings and moan its faults, but there’s always another one another run another sun waiting in the wings. :: In April, we poem.
:: And suddenly the day’s cracked open like a broken storm,with me alone at center. :: In November, we poem. This one’s an aubade.
… scribble-scrabble your morning away, under a rising grapefruit sun. just like ………………me. .. ,,
.. those grapevines spilled over into our yard from theirs, and my tiny people liked to be lifted up to borrow a juicy burst of morning with hungry crimson hands. .. Twiglet #16.
.. She knows there are other things to pause and poem (the light in that window there, the flapping rooster man on the corner, the whisper of snails) , but she cannot seem to get past the ebony apostrophes of … Continue reading
(aubade for all things broken) .. For more than ever, I have wanted something more than all this strugg -led skin, wanted to shrug my shoulders and shed my shoulds, fill my scars with stories. See that place beside the … Continue reading
.. what a joke one breath can be. (there it goes. did you miss it?) there’s a particular significance to morning. (now it’s over. did you kiss it?) i think perhaps my san -ity is slipping. i am currently consorting … Continue reading
prompted by poetic asides