Sunday morning dreams dissolve
into muffled thumps of socked feet
hurtling toward the kitchen
2.5 per second.
That glass of water
isn’t going to fill itself
and there is playing to be done.
Sunday morning dreams dissolve
into muffled thumps of socked feet
hurtling toward the kitchen
2.5 per second.
That glass of water
isn’t going to fill itself
and there is playing to be done.
Tags: children, family, Feet per Second, Home, Poems
Today, I noticed–for the first time–a red-orange tinge on the leaves of my neighbor’s Snowball Hydrangea tree, its branches spilling over the back fence, just within reach of my garden shears. I often notice, and have sometimes cut, the round, greenish “snowballs”, slowly whitening, delicate, but thick in flower, weighing down the ends of the […]
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