Raw Earth Ink
spit, mixed with dirt – muddy words flow
Category: Prose
In the Last Light of the Evening
The leaves on the trees have become smudges, merely a backdrop I look right through. I see nothing. I see everything. Everything. You weren’t able to reach beyond the now into tomorrow. You stay in the past and try for today, but never tomorrow.… Continue Reading “In the Last Light of the Evening”
That Fine Line
Your feet nearly touch the thin line, waiting, then pushing a toe tentatively nearer; you sigh wistfully, pull back gently. What delight may be held, should you ultimately cross over? Would it be to your peril or your salvation? There are risks and there… Continue Reading “That Fine Line”
Nectarine
I wish that I could take and hold you in my hand, curl you up within my palm. I would, if possible, take and sew you then into my pocket, careful stitches placed in neat rows, that I could take you with me wherever… Continue Reading “Nectarine”
For Better or For Worse
desperate dreams spread their gossamer threads across my mind, penetrating and perpetuating visions of grandeur. disgusted, or perhaps disappointed, I cast them far, flung open handed and wide. can’t win for losing, a voice whispers, but I snap my fingers and laugh sarcastically. or… Continue Reading “For Better or For Worse”
Moments in Blue
We sit across from one another at a little diner. The benches are real wood with ducks and hunting dogs carved into them and the cushions are a faded burgundy vinyl. Country western music plays out the speakers but we aren’t really listening. I’m… Continue Reading “Moments in Blue”
Words as Rivers, Flow
Early in the morning, I miss you. Those long conversations, me staying up far too late and you, laughing at my tired voice, refusing to fall asleep. How topics, flowing, turning and twisting, like a river down mountains through valleys, sometimes ebbing, slowing, deep… Continue Reading “Words as Rivers, Flow”
Thoughts on a Windy November Afternoon
For nineteen years, I was beat and belittled into quiet submission. I was trained to understand I would never measure up. I laughed too loud, I talked too much, I read the wrong things, I didn’t fit in, I didn’t understand my peers. I… Continue Reading “Thoughts on a Windy November Afternoon”
Raw Earth Ink 