Category: Poetry
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Frost’s Work
I look past the garden’s destruction to the Autumn’s colors parading up my road bright reds and fiery oranges calling Look up! Look up! I want to look down, Mourning the passing of summer but the colors clamor Look up! Look up! Gifts are on the horizon Autumn’s turning in Is the medicine I need…
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First Sleepover~ “one” becomes “two”
My son isn’t sleeping under the same roof as me, and I feel a great dis-ease. My heart presses against my ribs searing my skin attempting the impossible– to reach him. And I wonder, How will I breathe when he is gone for good? (to college, to his own life, under another roof with his…