secret plans

it’s the small, secret things that make a life. the hidden actions between you and your creator that you don’t regret, but rather forget, immediately, because there was no wrongdoing, only pure motive, that will be remembered out loud, from the rooftops, on that day. i’m sick of social media and its law of diminishing

175 years isn’t enough

pain doesn’t like to be looked at straight on.  it’ll distract and deflect and will look in any direction except back into your eyes. that’s what that judge was doing.  she forced pain to sit down in a chair and held its face forward, refusing to let it turn away.  then the girls could get

seasonal heart

these days of muted light feel just about right. sometimes my heart feels wide open, easily accessible, like the bright blue. but not lately. no, when the sun gets further away, a thin sheet of ice weathered from the events and circumstances of the year forms. the thin places turn into visible pools of murky,

pop music and the teenage soul

this thing keeps happening as my 13 year old daughter listens to pop music.  it takes me by surprise.  maybe it’s the scientific algorithms or maybe not. mazzy will play another teen anthem about taking life and love by storm and somewhere a few bars in – i have to stop myself from weeping. mind

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october reminds me of summer

the summer was good. yes, i’m still thinking about summer.  i still am processing that it’s over. we looked out the windows this morning and frost was holding fast to the top of the car, to the clover on the yard.  the heat has been kicking on.  abraham pulled out his electric blanket a couple

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