Thank you for that! I think about you and Sophie often and wonder how you’re both faring. Be well. Keep writing. (As if you need encouragement for that! More of a selfish comment I suppose given how much I enjoy what you post.
"Left me on Monday night." Oh god, oh god, oh god. Love can be a verb but loving is definitely a verb. You were loving with your dahlias. I am loving you.
Oh, that brief moment of joy...how wonderful. And you pulled me back into the world of school drop-offs and the day of freedom ahead. Sorry about your friend, I hope the flowers soothed her. Or maybe she is better off just having a friend such as you :)
Flowers-we reach for flowers. I reach for flowers to say what I can't. Their momentary, sunrise/sunset beauty. Your thoughtfulness meeting heartache. Bless you, Elizabeth
My God, the wanton beauty of those red dahlias, a perfect gift for your friend, who I hope will grab her liberation with both arms, because he wasn't worth it, the evidence for that being that he left, and now she is free. This is a wonderful poem.
I can't drop flowers for you but I can send you this song.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sqekQHoFI6o
Thank you for that! I think about you and Sophie often and wonder how you’re both faring. Be well. Keep writing. (As if you need encouragement for that! More of a selfish comment I suppose given how much I enjoy what you post.
Damn
"Left me on Monday night." Oh god, oh god, oh god. Love can be a verb but loving is definitely a verb. You were loving with your dahlias. I am loving you.
Oh, that brief moment of joy...how wonderful. And you pulled me back into the world of school drop-offs and the day of freedom ahead. Sorry about your friend, I hope the flowers soothed her. Or maybe she is better off just having a friend such as you :)
Flowers-we reach for flowers. I reach for flowers to say what I can't. Their momentary, sunrise/sunset beauty. Your thoughtfulness meeting heartache. Bless you, Elizabeth
Your writing thrills me. Thank you.
Wow. Love this
Pure poetry. Wow. I just love this, and also my heart breaks for your friend.
My God, the wanton beauty of those red dahlias, a perfect gift for your friend, who I hope will grab her liberation with both arms, because he wasn't worth it, the evidence for that being that he left, and now she is free. This is a wonderful poem.