“I’m not about big spaces,” said she grimly, mouth pursed, a little tangy around the edges. “I’m all about the small ones. Corners, the tiny gaps between the stools around the table. I’d slip into that. I’m content with the
From afar, a trumpet resounded without a tune sang a dog in a four-pawed cadence silence the trees danced along the march. Footsteps drummed in a celebration of summer like no other, the sun lit up with a smile from
There are things I must learn to do, yet before, I count to ten. One, not everything is solved by impulse. Two, you procrastinate too much. Three, nothing is too big. Four, nothing is too little. Everything has weight. Weigh
I stand afar from the ocean’s reach musing horizons past the breach for many waded long before becoming victors rising ashore barefoot, frightened, near the edge I would not jump into the bed for waters rise and waters fall and
I have a Tiny Letter! Please subscribe if you want me to send you (love) Letters to Strangers. I write about poems and stars and why you should keep your embers close to the heart so you will remain warm and on fire. And not alone. See you?
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