I could feel October coming
toward me like a train
like a brindled hound
I feel October’s tiredness
settling like crows in my bones
October comes around to hurt
my best friend died one October, long ago
a child, she was, and for love she died
that kind that hangs
on like a terrier and becomes unlove
and then highway lines and glass and goodbye to all that came before
more recently, October
hung, drew and quartered me.
October
makes me want to run,
to disappear
into an amber forest with the deer
slip into a foreign river and hide with the slow, upstream-gasping trout
October, and I want to kick loose the four walls around a feathered heart
to blow out the roof of the soul on fire
and fly away
from details and details and details
from the too-blunt shaver and the strangled ideals
and the blame
and the loss
and the judgement
and the shedding of people and place
and the four hours of brown tiles of a bathroom floor
poems, prose and pathways
Writer | Artist
Fatos e Curiosidades sobre a natureza e tecnologia
Meditations on Art and Life
"per l' allegria il pianeta nostro è poco attrezzato. Bisogna strappare la gioia ai giorni futuri "
a resource for moving poetry
Linking collage work to the meaning of personal and universal symbols.
This is my adventurous story about buying, designing, and renovating homes in ITALY
❤️❤️❤️❤️ Coraggio! 😘😘😘😘
Sent from my iPhone
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❤️❤️❤️❤️💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼
Dear Ali,
I don’t do Twitter or any of those other forms of more modern communication..just email.
It was good to hear from you again through your heartfelt poetry. Our paths crossed ever so briefly in 2012 but for me, memories I fall into from time to time.
Our premier has locked our West ‘Oz’ borders no in or out unless you are prepared to pay for your own quarantine.
Lots of love and these days an ‘air hug.’ Angela xxx
Sent from my iPad
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Lovely to hear from you, Ang, and thank you for still following and reading ❤️