The week ahead-- full. Nights spent drunk with love and light. Wrapped in velvet and whiskey. My birthday is soon. Four days left till twenty eight. I put on my crown.
Tag: poem
April 22 : Earth
Little blue dot, so small and pale. A freckle on the shoulder of the Universe. Soil, handfuls of dirt so dark and damp. Six foot blanket of Goodbye. Mother, life-bringer and nurturer. She wears no crown but she is Queen.
April 21 : On Alarm Clocks
I hear it's a common complaint-- the alarm clock. It is jarring, grating, aggressively braying, the digital jackass sitting on my side table. Wearily each night I plug in my time, a begrudging tap-tap-tap to 4:30 every day and squint through tired eyes as it tells me just how long I have-- down to the … Continue reading April 21 : On Alarm Clocks
April 20 : Friday
Full sunshine warming winter-weary grass, Ready to throw open the windows and invite in the air. Inside is cool and quiet-- we fall asleep on accident. Dancing tree limbs sprinkled with new buds, Ants stealing crumbs from around flip flopped feet. Yesterday we said goodbye to our overcoats.
April 19 : Pink Hair
What if I had pink hair, I wonder. Like a fairy godmother, an ethereal vision of gentle disposition, peony petal soft, a harlequin romance heroine in pastel. But maybe (probably) like a frizzy and frazzled manic pixie dream girl snapping over-chewed bubble gum between snarled teeth. Maybe on a different girl, with smaller hips and … Continue reading April 19 : Pink Hair
Typewriter Moon 