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Reach for the clouds. . .
Tickle your toes. . .
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two squinting painted eyes looking solemn on a leathery face. this knight of the golden age has a 20 gallon bucket of a hat atop his slicked...
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to have sticky pins for fingertips and ballpoint pens for thumbs. then I could fascinate myself to you, and write away doldrums.
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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...
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July 7th the face of a rose deflates our windowsill- not much of a garden. July 8th after the party- a painting is crooked I think someone d...
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July 9th i feel like running again. it's either that or swimming in a valley of tears. July 10th you couldn't tell by looking at us,...
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Tickling toes- there was something about that barefooted madness something about that wistful waist-high wishing and wooshing in the woods, ...
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My dearest Lavinia, for Emily Dickinson You, ever my confidante- I hoped that you might be available, fingers interlaced, with my boot step ...
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our silence comes easy and there is much to it the commingling of our fingers and the swapping of palm oils and the nimble saltation of ...
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RICK: Hey Rick? DICK: Yea, Dick? RICK: See that sky roll on by? (points) DICK: ...Oh, my... RICK: Don't i-t'almost makes yer wanner....
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Out the window, I thought I saw Emily pale, gawking. a green T-shirt. bouncing firey springs on her head.
Awww That's so sweet and not minding his beard being gone, that's love~! :)
ReplyDeleteLOL! true
ReplyDeleteNothing like being home with your loved ones during stormy weather. Love the surprise ending.
ReplyDeleteWhat a sweet and tender moment you've shared with us...there is an unmistakable ring of truth to it...:)
ReplyDeleteThe familiarity and intimacy are wonderful here. The essence of every day, and the blessings therein are evident. Feels transitional in several ways. Nice write!
ReplyDeleteI love the tender intimacy in your words~ The caress of day and how these interludes allow magic to arrive~
ReplyDeleteThis is larger than the words...it has a peaceful and sweet nectar to it, like a favorite flower on the dining table.
ReplyDeletesuperb imagery, you draw me with you.
ReplyDeletewanted to say thank you for your support to short story slam week 5...
welcome join our week 7 challenge.
bless your talent, keep it coming.
claim two awards from my post if you wish.
ReplyDeletehappy Friday.
Rachel,
ReplyDeleteHome is the best place to be away from a storm and fear and into the arms of love.
Eileen
Always nice to be able to share a stormy day with a loved one.
ReplyDeletelove this one - so authentic...nice, so nice
ReplyDelete"in your arms full of things." that line just stands out to me. sweet little piece Amy! xo
ReplyDeleteRachel? LOL
ReplyDeletesimple and short but really evocative. glad to find your blog!!
ReplyDeletethank you!
ReplyDeleteCozy and intimate, shelter from the storm. Very nice!
ReplyDeletethanks! -a m trumble
ReplyDeleteLove how personal this is. Reminds me of many of my own pieces. (u might like "pretty words would be untrue")
ReplyDeleteI love your blog. ♥
Lovely sentiments, A.M.! Cuddling while the cold rain falls is always worthy of a poem. Very nice one!
ReplyDeleteMy weekly entry: http://charleslmashburn.wordpress.com/2011/08/28/forever-changed-2/
Very sweet :) I love this poem
ReplyDeletelove it,
ReplyDeletehow beautiful.