so, more and more, i've been thinking

moreandmoremoreandmore Posts: 164
edited October 2006 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
i've been thinking about my cat that loves sitting in puddles when it's cold outside. how he likes to rub his face on my elbow when i'm sewing patches to the knees of my first child's bluejeans. blown and blown again ~ i know these patches will not last, but they're beautiful. they came from a cut in an outfit outgrown years ago. and, to sew old memories into new things, and to make the depth deeper in doing so? these are things the grown ups know.

forget about the irate.
forget about the bills
and the money and the way
you look when the sun hits your face.
these places aren't where lives are made,
they're just places in the shade
where we hide when we get tired








:)
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • What I do
    is try to feed
    my mother's memories
    back to her
    all the while
    knowing that they can't stick
    because they're new
    to her
    and nothing new sticks.

    We should all have dementia. It would help.
  • Why this makes me think of The 6th Sense, I'll never know. I make the oddest associations sometimes. :)
  • I don't see dead people.
    Just waiting.
  • and you run and you run to catch up with the sun
    but it's sinking,
    racing around to come up behind you again.

    think pink.
    your eyes make a circle,
    I see you when I go in there.
  • Kicking around on a patch of ground in my hometown.
    Still waiting.
  • Waiting for something or someone to show me the way.
  • And then one day you find ten years have got behind you
    No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun

    bang.
    your eyes make a circle,
    I see you when I go in there.
  • Hello, and thank you :)
  • asphaltasphalt Posts: 113
    cause all we dig are graves and memories
    and all we share are smells and sights

    live on .. for the sake of your senses
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