I’m sitting in a waiting room And choose to write this verse; The snow is blowing hard outside The wind keeps getting worse — Winter once was magical With castles made of snow; But now the world is blank, and I Can’t see which way to go — The wait is over, and my child …
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[Originally posted May, 2018. 30 days of prose, day 10. – Owen] Falling in love is like stepping off of a flying airplane; them loving you back would be the parachute. But that parachute doesn’t always open. Splat. Love in relationships always comes with risk. We can’t know what others are really thinking, and we …
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When my ex left, our youngest was But three years old – alas – So I would take him daily to A little pre-k class The girl who worked there was so young But seemed to like the way I’d sit with him – and other kids – Beginning every day So, finally, I asked …
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The morning was heavy with mist and dew But the sun was hot and the light burned through And I was just ten, with little to do But explore the surrounding farmland. By brother and I at long last stood By a single tree near a teeming wood Where the sounds were full and the …
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The ghosts of mill towns past awake and seek us in our sleep; they tell us work will make you whole, and prayer make you deep I hear them, shouting, from the docks, I see them now, in waves; I see them slumping off to work And to their waiting graves For this is how …
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HERE, in the chapel, I find a peace That I've been missing in my life; For troubles never seem to cease, And every joy comes mixed with strife, But maybe, tomorrow, the sun will rise, And lungs will fill, and eyes will see That days are a promise we get to keep, And I am …
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We moved from Florida to here, A place of trees and gentle slopes; We set up our establishment, With four found souls and two lost hopes, But still, and decades hence, we're here. This place, the pages of our tome: The story universal, for We must leave home so we can find A home.
pole in hand and eight years old, fishing on a summer lake; tackle box and hook and lure, early morning squint and ache nothing, nothing, everything -- fish pulled out and thrown back in; nothing, nothing, nothing more -- it's as though we'd never been what to learn from silent times, what to say when …
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leaving home is the first step to anywhere