We sat at the beach, chatting and watching a little boy play with his ball. The next time we looked over, he was crying. His ball had drifted out too far for anyone to reach it. I told my friend, “I can’t look. It just makes me sad.” He responded by saying, “Just think, some…
This is a sign found in my new neighborhood. It bodes well for things to come. I was telling a friend recently that my playful inner child has been getting squelched by constantly witnessing so many wounded children of late. Times they are a changing. I am reclaiming my desire and ability to play for…
winter arrived with a song (and a roar!) the turning wheel brought new light (and lusciousness) hearts drawn on steamed windows (with music and delight) like a dervish, i whirl! like a primrose, I open! the honeysuckle is a tangle of naked branches (summer, a distant memory)
Song by Kymberlee della Luce That’s me reading this fabulous poem by Shelley. I do not have good sound recording equipment but I wanted to share this anyway. I recorded it for my friend, Duke, who shares my love of poets from antiquity. I love to read poetry aloud for my friends but I don’t…
my country my culture is like an alcoholic parent on a bender taking taking taking drinking the last drop and destroying and we, like the little orphans we are like hungry birds chirping squawking pecking clawing for attention for resources for space to be heard to be seen to be loved no space no recess…