#npm
Cold fingers
Cold toes
Cold nose
Chills, aches,
Pain like little needles.
Air conditioners whir and churn .
Give me a hot day under a tree, a breeze by the beach.
I dread the coming of the machine.
Archives for April 2012
Summer at the Beach
The ocean cracks against the shore,
I listen once again from my bedroom.
Falling asleep, I imagine the creeping waves, reaching and rescinding,
the sound changing only with the tide and wind.
We could learn much from the constancy of nature.
#npm prompt: constancy
Thinking About
I ran across this beautiful quote today–worth sharing:
The very least you can do in your life is figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance, but live right in it, under its roof.
Barbara Kingsolver, Animal Dreams
Latte For You
the flower floats on the steaming cup of coffee
it’s what they do, make flowers in the foam
in big brown cups
even while I wait for my almond-milk chai, I watch them
art in the corner coffee shop
prompt: favorite drink #npm
The Summer I Was Seventeen
(writing prompt: model your poem after another- I chose Geraldine Connolly, The Summer I Was Sixteen)
The baby blue bug beckoned me,
its body freshly washed, its windows shiny
and waiting. I jumped in, my ripped jeans
sliding onto the black seats. Giddy with joy.
Turning the key, I pressed lightly on the
clutch, and then lifting my right foot,
gave the car gas. Moving. Slowly and surely,
I felt the rumble, left security, and rolled away.
Windows down, air as warm as buttery toast,
Beatles blaring. I grinned and dangled my arm
out the window. Turning. Watching the
yellow light. Yes, this is my car.
Eyes scanning for friends on foot, I drove
past the grocery store, through the park, and
onto the highway leading out of town. All you need
is love. My day-old license, an A&W root beer,
singing to no one and everyone as I emptied
the gas tank mile by mile in my tie-died t-shirt
and Birkenstocks. Hoping and praying
for someone to see me alone and in control.
#npm