Early in the day, before blue is interrupted by gold When sneaky sky changes before my eyes, I sit. Wait. Write.
A Bear, far from his cave, out of his cave, a cave of dream and nightmare Where gold never interrupts blue and sky never changes before eyes that hunger, for light. For love.
Beautiful, terrible flash of mind. Memory. Ethereal. Soft. Hidden. Creeps from mind.
Small child calls to small child, innocence calls innocence to play!
Rush of wind! Boys speed by to the creak of bicycle tires. Small bodies, up, now down. Heads up, now back
Wide open mouths, release sounds of boyish joy!
Changes desire, calls deeply sleepy memory. Sweet boy. Beautiful boy. Good boy. Before belt. Death. Helplessness.
A smart boy who can see no scathing, no beating can ever take down his full, fierce, loving heart. No one, nothing, can take what he has found.
Bear paw, Man hand, takes up pen...
Sea of blank, waiting to be smitten. Epic story, begging to be written
In the beginning, there was The Word...
About the Creator
Synecdoche
I’m an artist... retired professional singer and stage actor, a writer, a bead artist, a sculptor, collage-er, I make accessories, am an activist and organizer, amateur chef (key word here is, “amateur,”) and Auntie extraordinaire.
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