I have not forgotten
which side of the bed
to effortlessly toss
my pillows. I do-
that without thinking.
I carried with me
two entire boxes
of souvenirs from
our courtship. I do not-
need to open them.
I never pick daisies
if I did I would mercilessly
hack them to pieces with
my impetuous fingers.
I do, I don't, I do,
I don't, I do, I don't
I do, I don't, I do,
I don't, I do, I don't
I do.
I have not forgotten
how much effort I made
to preserve each petal.
listen to the spoken word version of daisies
:)
Tickle your toes. . .
-
like me- it serves as a question as well as an appropriately foolish letter in bad company it only teams up with words like yodel, ...
-
Another Indian woman living on our block has hair swept back and braided has jeweled toes, is in all yellow traditional regalia, and walks w...
-
husband and I trek a mile for ice cream just for the creamy banana, crunchy pecans, and chunks of thumb-sized chocolate. shoes flipping and...
-
driving home from the farmer's market- I can't see anything- through this storm- I come home to sleep- with you-rest in your arms fu... -
hunger is sometimes preferable to loneliness. a stomach will twist- but hands become dirty and heavy when full of coins.
-
there ain't no other place like you to roam. where I dug in my heels and said "No, I won't come home!" Dancing in the warb...
-
In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself. The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose. The one who gets her point across but... -
Out the window, I thought I saw Emily pale, gawking. a green T-shirt. bouncing firey springs on her head.
-
nipped at the ankles which is how I wander through life sometimes I must be pushed through a door finally opened after years of knock...
-
confession is all: it is what my poetry is, and that is my life.
Poets United Contributor
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