Oh Muse

Oh Muse, Where are you hiding? Shall we play like little children? Or shall we be adult about it? I seek you but you are just out of my grasp. You are the scent on a lover’s bedsheet. The extra coffee cup on the kitchen counter. An incomplete song, missing that one note. Oh Muse! Come out wherever you are! I want to hold you like a lover. Tenderly and passionately.
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Cuba

I want to know how Hemingway felt when he first saw Cuba. Did he see the mountains break through the horizon first? Or did it appear as if by magic across the rolling gulf waters? I see you across the room. An undiscovered flower, hidden among the noise and entrapment of society. Will you take my hand if I offer it? May I have this dance? My training wheels are off, my father gives me the last push.
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Tea

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Poetry and Very Short Stories 2020

VSS, or Very Short Stories is a daily Twitter prompt that I like to partake in from time to time. Usually its with a word prompt. Here’s my running list of VSS for the year 2020. She always watched the sunset if she got her chore done in time. It would take 10 minutes to climb to a good spot, another 5 to the best and highest spot. Atop the tallest wall of the land, she dreamed of what lay outside these walls.
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Awake! Men!

We have eaten the poison for what it means to “be a man” by corporations.
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Forest Parable

Nature. I see Her go to sleep every night, only to awake every morning being less than what she was the night before. seasons slip between one another time advances I am aware of my mortality. I see it not only in myself but in others, in the world around me. Acorns. not enough this year Wounded by love, how do I stop the bleeding? Is the scar a reminder of my foolishness or merely a wrong turn?
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The Hike

It was an early Sunday morning, cold and windy. The wind burst across the tree tops and rolled down the old mountain on to us. The dogs pointed their noses into the wind, smelling for a scent. It had rained last week and the trail was muddy in the low spots. Brown and red leaves cover the loose rocks. Her dresses change - all are meant to catch your eye
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There will be a time

A poem for you.
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