Stars so sharp they are
holes in time, the past shining
into the future.
Autumn night sky
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Stars so sharp they are
holes in time, the past shining
into the future.
How can one person
be so excited about
an extra hour’s sleep?
My daughter asks why
I hate Paul Tibbets. He was
just doing his job.
When I eat healthy
it’s cottage cheese rye crispbread.
I’ll live forever.
My husband’s pride is
African violets, purple
faces genuflect.
We have never met.
And yet, reading this, you know
who I really am.
I crave silence like
most women crave chocolate,
dark, deep, bittersweet.
Wearing the mantle
of autumn. Cold starry nights
days of leaf-strewn gold.
Organization
my goal. Utter chaos my
sad reality.
I type furtively,
blogging an addiction as
bad as crystal meth.