Tag: poetry

  • Shades of Gray

    Shades of Gray   When you’re a child you think everyone tells the truth. You think your mother and father will be together forever. When you see your first divorce it’s kind of like seeing your first accident. You can’t believe this could happen Sometimes people stay together because they can’t stand to be alone. […]

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  • https://preludemag.com/posts/the-great-blue-heron/


  • Hopeful

    Hopeful

    Yesterday a man held my hand so powerfully I couldn’t tell after a while as it seemed so right that consistent pressure. Normally I don’t like comfort in any form as it embarrasses me like the chameleon turning pink on lava or carnation, I pull away from touch as I know the consequences. But this […]

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  • Despair

      This summer the windows in the house steam up like they used to when there were teenagers inside. All that glorious passion every morning. This summer everything is slightly off: The gaits of the horses, the timing of the stoplights, the phases of the moon, the beat of people’s hearts. Reports keep coming of […]

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  • Craters in the moon

    When I was eight years old my father brought home home a long, rectangular cardboard box which he opened after dinner carefully outside our front door. It was a clear night and warm as I recall and he removed from the box like a surgeon removing a baby from the belly of an unconscious woman […]

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  • Loss

    Loss

    Loss In the gray half open eye period prior to full alert status I feel a touch or maybe an outstretched limb, a phantom connection I may remember. Warm and wanting.. Delaying the awakening I dwell there In hopeful desire among my fresh sheets, memories of sun fragrant and salt drying, my fingers on your […]

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  • My Path

    My Path

  • Love

                                                              Maybe it’s been four weeks but it would be hard to say precisely as time has stopped being a way to manage her day. The emails started out of the blue with a Facebook message. She didn’t remember “friending” him but he said she did. He seemed intimate yet she couldn’t recall a time […]

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  • The Best Memory

    The Best Memory

                                       The Best Memory     The best Fall I remember happened outside of Paris due north near Chambord in November maybe October’s when the Beaujolais Nouveau was released along with me…I walked out the door of the inn we stayed in while you drank with our host. I wandered following troughs of wet leaves […]

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  • Last night

    Last night