I feel the water running
Through my calloused hands
I feel the dirt run through
The indents of the scars
I feel such a closeness
To the simple earth.
I feel loss for those
Who are afraid to dig;
They feel afraid,
They are afraid to be
The humans they are.
Friday, March 27, 2015
Our desert (haiku)
I look through photos Our life through the four seasons Back through the old ones. Blossoming in spring With all the diverse flowers ...

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I had something that I couldn't tell, a hope, a truth, and a lie as well. I rolled them all together with a postage stamp and mailed ...
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I can't seem to find the Cap of the marker I was just using Now it will dry up and shrivel Instead of bleeding through my pages.
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Going up to the counter at the store and being oh so small evermore. The laughter contorts my face all over and under the place A fort- ...