Every day is a revision, a flux of emotions and evolution of ideas.
My magnum always shoots the truth.The funeral glorifys the youthYou wrote and starred in this lifeWere you snubbed at the oscars or was the plot crucified in vain
That's scary, Zeb.
a bit long, still a bit unrefined but it is a *random* act, and on this aunt's BD, so here you go -- feel the almost peach fuzz abrasionof long yellow beans?Let the genie crisp pop snapus to the knee of my auntwhen I was in pigtailsand overalls, knees mud-plasteredfrom adventures with frogsShe and I shelled peas,cleaned yellow beanssorted pinto beans in thegrey dirt floor shed.Sense the dimness?Sniff the old woodchipstacked cordwoodalong one wall hear that scamperingflittering scatteringscratches of beetles, deermice and kittens peeking out, rushing through, feel the cool of the galvanized steel speckled bushel tested for weight, let's shake everything downdenser, one on another, heavier than arms from carryingheavier than her knowing that this timewill never return to hand only mind"mind your workthe day will still be therewhen you're through"wanting to follow drainage ditchesnap, lulled pretending to be the logmesmerized by the scrollworkbored into the logside under barkmarvel at how sun heats the blue straps differently than the white cottonturtleneck, feel the shinyness of claspsand how the colors are so much moreprimary than crayons or the play furniturebut soon this all anticipation tumbles into the rubber buckets plunks, succumbs to the music of rhythm of peas shelled, the unity and togetherness of being at my aunt's knee.
Oh that is beautiful, Pearl and a fitting birthday tribute to your aunt.Thank you so much for participating in this poetic event.
Random Poem from Connan O Brien Showsteak in the faceisn't america a great place?you perform a dance number(clip)that is you.i listened to my heart.
Wow, thanks Lisa. I am not sure I grasp the deep meaning but I am ever so glad to be poemed!
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