You are so beautiful, California, to me

You are so beautiful, California, to me

  If I could sing, California If I could sing If I had his marinated voice his command California I would caress you tone by sanded tone word by weeping word You are so beautiful California to me You are so beautiful mountain towns artichoke fields coastal cities...
her last day — a poem

her last day — a poem

    her last day she did not know when she left teacup in sink mauve lipstick on rim grabbed fleece jacket rushed out door smelled sunshine after rain drove by vineyards horses, lambs she did not know — when she greeted friends put purse in drawer kicked off...
Hopes, a dark poem shared just because

Hopes, a dark poem shared just because

A tenacious, invasive cold-flu that slammed me in early January slowed me way down. Then there’s the new political landscape in the U.S.A. to contend with, which I, along with many others, have found truly disturbing. I’m feeling much better now, but I was...

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