Tag: prose

  • Renewed

    Tick, tick, tick The internal wind-up clock never stops Tock, tock, tock. Not enough time I look for extra moments In the day Finding none, I ration my breath As I rush from a to b Then c to d, And e to f, Holding it miserly, Like the gold it is Some days, I…

  • Renewed

    Tick, tick, tick The internal wind-up clock never stops Tock, tock, tock. Not enough time I look for extra moments In the day Finding none, I ration my breath As I rush from a to b Then c to d, And e to f, Holding it miserly, Like the gold it is Some days, I…

  • Recovery

    Recovery

    It’s been awhile since I sat down to explore myself and my reactions to the world. It’s not because I had no emotions, or found the world to be an unending paradise, but the opposite. I’ve lived in a House of Strep, which felt like a burden of unbearable proportions. But we bore it, somehow.…

  • Sundays blessings

    Sundays blessings

    I struggled out of bed this morning, Long before the sun was up in the sky. Too many people in my house, Making too much noise in their sleep, And I had a night mare on a wild ride. I felt so much older than time should have allowed, But coffee and a book read…

  • Mondays resolutions

    Mondays resolutions

    On a Monday, I make new promises Like January 1st, But every week instead. I make my resolutions; I’ll eat my veggies, run again. I’ll finish my tasks Then relax in the sun again. How I miss being 28 Maybe, if I worked harder On each and every Monday I could turn back the clock…

  • Tgif

    Tgif

    I haven’t been as good at posting everyday lately. It seems time has sped up on me again, stealing the breath from my chest as it runs away, like a mugger with a purse, while I look on helplessly. I cling to the edges of the day, waking at one, then two, then three, thinking…

  • Holiday Monday

    Holiday Monday

    Another holiday has passed, with food galore and children shrieking like the wild banshees they are- Or occasionally, tigers and wolves and whatever other creatures they were pretending to be. Seven small children make an infinite amount of noise, And yet somehow we managed to talk and eat and laugh. The warmth of a house…

  • Sun on falling leaves

    Sun on falling leaves

    A beautiful fall day unfolded as we drove through the trees, the brave leaves still clinging in shades of red and orange and yellow while their fallen brethren lay scattered on the ground. The sun was brilliant in cool blue skies, while the kids enjoyed the fall day, Pretending they weren’t even slightly cold as…

  • Slumbering little boy

    Why does breath whistle as it softly leaves his body? Is it the same reason my heart melts a little more each day? His soft warm little body slack against mine, he sings me a song in his sleep The song of life and dreams wound together Glee filling him until he stops, rolls over…

  • Blessings

    Blessings

    Another Thursday rushed at the seams Broken and battered But still full of dreams The shining light Of a centenarian’s eyes Makes me appreciate Another day’s sunrise The slow steady breathing Of a child fast asleep Makes me think about love And how it can grow so deep Another goodbye And another hello I watch…