at dusk
cartwheels on the grass
sister teaching sister
with ubuntu
the crunch
of dried autumn leaves
fading red sun shimmers
on the river
pink cheeks
hair tumbling wildly
we watch our breath appear
on the exhale
moments
woven together
with great laughter and love
in autumn bliss
I see so often how I longed for something and once I got it, it soon began to be less appealing. This was true of material things, men, experiences and even “freedom”
news travels fast these days (too fast) we hear of a tragedy within minutes of the happening powerlessness sets in and outrage (and deep sadness) let this news travel fast then: i awakened moments ago in a dark room my babies are safe in their bed the night sky is clear and the birch tree…
reading her my poetry about a man with a swagger ‘neath red flame chandeliers (and comparing notes) circular narratives about life and gypsies and making sense of men (and ourselves) a text to her lover in a moment of mischief fueled with red wine (and some flirting) “I think she’s trying to get me drunk,”…
I suppose if my Dad loved me– if he showed he cared, I would have believed I was lovable. But he didn’t and I didn’t. And I tried to fill up that hole– spackle spackle pound pound hammer hammer. But it didn’t work. So today, I’m trying to find ways to love myself. I’m starting…
your essence, back and belly legs tangled in sheets the luxury of morning
When I am deeply rooted in my own power and take full responsibility for my life, my spirit can soar free. My spirit is not beholden to gravity and the rules of the physical world but my body is. The nature of reality, according to many belief systems is that the physical world is an…