Poetry
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Poetry

Pain and loss. Trapped. Escape here, escape there. Long for what was. There is no place like home and Oz is paved with bumpy roads. Kansas is calling but we left for a reason. The reason turned ugly and warped and we don’t know why. Pulling children close that went...

I have always had a thing for rivers. I'm not sure I've ever thought about why. I enjoy sitting next to them and just watching the water flow constantly. It always grounds me. I was reading a book this morning entitled A Life of Being, Having, and Doing Enough by Wayne...

George Gray  (by Edgar Lee Masters) I have studied many times The marble which was chiseled for me -- A boat with a furled sail at rest in a harbor. In truth it pictures not my destination But my life. For love was offered me and I shrank from its disillusionment; Sorrow knocked at my door, but...

- a small boy looks out window in classroom - cannot sit still -urgency -can't focus on slow pace of class -his mind is everywhere -he is out in the meadows, creating freely -he's home now, running, playing, being free - this is  not okay: "BE QUIET!!" -father is angry -father is stressed -father feels out of control -boy feels small -boy...

Extending out from her center, like an octopus suctioning to others' expectations, she loses herself, and the authenticity of her being. The tentacular extension will always leave her flailing about....