Living Water
I am the stream of my childhood summers
Running down the hill near Grandma’s Summer Garden | A history of memories tumbling | rolling spilling over rocks | Always moving forward
On the Road Past 50: My internal zephyr… from fluttery wisps to whirlwind tempests
I am the stream of my childhood summers
Running down the hill near Grandma’s Summer Garden | A history of memories tumbling | rolling spilling over rocks | Always moving forward
…..the tale of how everything you did and everything you were led up to the moment I dove in and pulled you into my mind, my thoughts, my heart…..
Read MoreI wrote a poem on day 326. I wrote it. I saved it because it cut far far to much personal info. I’m not ready to share it. It is for me and not you. It helped me to get it out and to write it down. For now, it is mine and mine alone. […]
Read MoreI’ve gone back and significantly edited a poem written back in the spring of this year. I was seriously not pleased with it then. That was also the period of my writing where I was under therapist suggested non-edit mode. In other words, I was supposed to just write write write without editing myself. Now, […]
Read MoreOh expense reports!
My Achilles Heel | My administrative nightmare|
You shame me with my errors
| International conversions that drive me to drink
I am a yard away when the transformation occurs | My paradigm shifts | My perception changes[…]
Read MoreI conquer my concerns | Starting meek and unsure | Finding my voice […]
Read MoreQuiet breathing turns into
Puppy yips and deep bubbly snores | Sleepy stretches become moving legs […]
I was hanging out at Pinos the other night. Even when I don’t take advantage of the fact that we have a place in our town that has live music and a gathering space, I know it’s there. The thought that there is a place that can feel like a small town extension of my living […]
Read MoreI imagine that people who live in around sites and vistas begin to not realize how wonderful and amazing their local attractions can be. This makes me wonder if I take for granted […]
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