A brighter mourn

This poem is an optimistic view of death.

Words

The Meaning of Life

Perhaps we are but short, single notes in the great symphony of evolution;

Transition 6

You may think the lesson’s distant as you work hard and you strive. But those who flee from flooded cities, do so barely with their lives.

Is It Where We Write or What We Write?

I have been thinking about writers and what and where they write. There are so many sites available online. Some go here, others go there. Some return to their first site, others never return.

“Conversations about my Recent Separation #3”

“Conversations about my Recent Separation #3” How am supposed to recognize when I’ve crossed into self-indulgence I suppose I’ll never know. Though it slips from me like a dog

Pebbled floor

Two hours, maybe more Sitting on the pebbled floor

Far away . . . and take it easy!

Shall I start the countdown To the date to fly away

A lecture from a pompous arse

I was rude You indignantly say So what do you want now? I want to know Why you went away

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