I find
That
Today
There
Is
Absolutely
Nothing
Weighing
On
My
Mind.
The
Work
Is
Coming
Into
Line,
The
Weather
Continues
Fine,
But
In
My
Ear,
So
Distant
I can
Barely
Hear,
Are
Voices
Of
Another
Age,
Calling
To
Be
Made
Whole
On
A
Printed
Page.
The Writer’s Life II
I find That Today There Is Absolutely Nothing Weighing On My Mind. The Work Is Coming Into Line, The Weather Continues Fine, But In My Ear, So Distant I can Barely Hear, Are Voices Of Another Age, Calling To Be Made Whole On A Printed Page.
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Event
This Morning, To My Shock, A Spaceship Landed In The Middle Of The Block. Neighbors Ran Into The Morning Cold, As Out Strolled Two Beings Of Solid Gold. They Took A Look At The Gawking Crowd, And One Said Rather Loud, “Nothing Civilized Here To See, Let Us Flee.” Uncertain What We Had Heard, No One Said A Word. They Marched Back In, The Craft Began To Spin And Up They Went, In A Steady Ascent. I came Back Home To Finish My Tea, Wishing They Had Taken Me. Sad State
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Just Today, I read That Charlie’s Dead. No Chance Now To Take Back Things Said, Roll Away The Years Or Replace Tears Shed. Dear Charlie, With His Smiles And Pervasive Tendency To Lie, Didn’t Know He’d Die Before He Could Make Anything Right. No One Can Hold Back The Night That Comes To Us All, And We Fall. Nothing More To Be Said, Charlie’s Dead. |
AuthorJeanette Collins Archives
March 2024
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