“Time will tell.”
“There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.”
“There’s always light at the end of the tunnel.”
“Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.”
“Your time is up.”
What, exactly, will time tell? Will it tell me that my days are numbered? Personally, I’d like to think that my days are worded. My days are stories, one-by-one as a child, then a dozen, then hundreds as the years roll on.
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Evelyn hadn’t seen Steve in over 25 years. They’d dated in high school. He was the cool jock; you know the type. Mussed up hair, tight grungy jeans, a permanent smirk on his handsome face. Evelyn was the goody-good cheerleader, top grades, anxious about getting into the “right” school. Continue reading
Star bright star light set my broom aside
Let me walk upon the clouds, nothing under me
I need no lift, I need not ask for a flying ride
When creativity is my guide, I am true and free. Continue reading
“‘Be Bop a Lula,’” he says.
“What?”
“That’s her name, ‘Be Bop a Lula.’”
Jill inwardly rolls her eyes. Jason has been softly pushing her for more during the last year. More time together, more intimacy, more thoughts of moving in together. She’s a ‘less is more’ kind of woman. At least, that’s what she’s become.
“Why is that the plant’s name?” Jill asks, pointing to the hanging plant in his hand. Continue reading
I view the strange world
a vantage point of distance
Seated at my desk.
Clouds and sunshine peek
Like flirts on a summer’s day
Through the window blind.
Birds sweep with a laugh
Through the orange red branches
I spread my wings too.
roughwighting 