This Autumn

Listening to acorns hit the deck ( literally ) It’s making me laugh ( inexplicably ) The season’s turning ( inexorably ) Closing my eyes I soak up the sun ( luxuriously ) Taking these moments as they come ( miraculously )

No comments:
Subscribe to: Comments (Atom)

Is Not

  Writing's not a comfy chair Alan Bennett said  And I thought  A person's not a house Character's not clothes Love is not a bun...

  • Epilogue
    Jolie Laide There she hangs, his masterpiece and her own, Immortalised in paint, painted over until, A finished moment masks all tha...
  • What she had become - a beginning
      Her beating heart, so tired now, nerves worn thin with worrying, Her legs, led her, running on empty, to the place where she could rest ; ...