Stream of Consciousness
The Key Between Stranger Realms - Day Five
On this ordinary morning, a mother and her toddler chase each other around the grassy field whose shade has become my comfort these days when the heat is greedy. They wear fruit themed outfits: one strawberry and a little lemon. As the toddler runs toward me in my respite, threatening to cross the imaginary boundary of the overhanging palo verde’s shadow, the mother calls, “Don’t bother strangers, love,” to her son.
By Sam Eliza Green2 years ago in Poets
Toe-tally
It's the end of a well trodden path, I am not where I want to be nor lost; I am hidden in dusty archives, under decades of questioning that word, that world called TRUTH. Yea, truth is best uncovered, no matter how cold it is, how old it is and where it leaves us. Truth can lead to blindness. You know about this, am I right again?
By ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)2 years ago in Poets
