Short opinion on today. Flash Fiction. Poetry. Other's words. I am always looking for your input
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Monday, October 20, 2014
I have always loved Melanie.
I have always loved Melanie.
but she is old now
and her voice, her story
just a memory.
The key faded and worn, the candle cold.
**********
Where are those days?
Where is the wind,
the breeze?
Do Redwoods still tower over us somewhere and whisper
secrets of a simple past,
of some time passed?
How it just doesn't seem fair
feeling the chains now hanging heavy
an steal those quiet moments quilt-free
where we just were and there was little more
on the other side of just that moment
other than just another moment
Just a moment waiting to happen and be whatever it became.
We spy darkness in the distant
and it steals the moment
so we can do one more motion before it
wraps us like a blanket
on a cold desert night.
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