My arm is on my lap. I am stuck in a place that has no restraints. I am waiting in a line in a crowded cafeteria impatient and worrisome. Do
Author: Sarah
Tick, tock; the echo of the clock the chiming, rhyming repetitiously against the hour it’s white elegant face, round and smooth, yet, counting away pleasures steadfastly. The clock reminds “never
There she is, there’s the girl Playing with her ball I pour the water out of the cup Quiet as a mouse enter the house So significant the blanket Remain
On some evening after sunset, I’ll drift home on a star. Happily with my eyes shut, drifting through the sky over the roofs and past the cars, not too near,
A sonnet is truly too hard to write since there are so many styles and types. Make it with ten syllable or without? Octave, sestet, rhyme or not, I don’t
Where are we going and whom are we calling? Talk over each other’s voices and yell through the window dirty like a child What city and what state? Whichever helps
When we first get behind the wheel, the herks and jerks of the car give us whiplash. This is the story of how I lost my voice, as one gets
I look at you lying with me in bed and when you look back at me, my chest feels warm. I have to squeeze you, but I don’t want ever
Open your mouth and inhale The freshly mowed grass dirt, soil It’s all clean A cool breeze and a tight squeeze Through the center of the earth Earth Set up
My search for truth is frustrated How often have you played the lyre? The role of the goddess changes until there is a heartless soul, then nothing – same song