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Sometimes I hear
the call of the wild
floating across
a warm day.
Or a foggy Friday
evening that would
be just perfect for
getting into trouble.
Pay day meant party time.
But even if I wanted
to go snooping around
there is nowhere left to go.
No one left to call to the bars.
No snow in August.
i love them,
"do you?",  whispers my mind.
"i do," murmurs my heart.

but i stumble,
always.

words slip,
unwelcomed,
uninvited.

i don’t deserve them.

a tear falls.
the mirror blurs.
"it’s over already," the mind sighs.
I love my parents, I know.
But I have hurt them already...
why do I never try to understand them?
I try to do.... just probably the worst daughter alive maybe....
saying things I never mean, then crying as its hurting me...
I can feel the heaviness in my heart


Why the hell am I the way I am???
My friends used
To always be around
Good times, bad times
It didn't really matter
Every day was a new
Exciting adventure

Fast forward 10 years
Our group is scattered
All over the world and
We've become merely
Memoirs to reminisce
On my insomnia nights
Realized I don't have any friend left. Did my depression took the best of me? Did I become that dull? Or that's just how being a grown up supposed to be? I really couldn't say...
I never felt more alone.
 Dec 2024 Strawblee
Sara Brummer
SECRETS

They begin with phantom emotions,
perhaps of past moments dreamed
or a future not yet revealed.
They whisper soft winter music
in the pines, making shadow sounds
on the voice of air.

They are faint pencil lines
on a transparent screen,
a glimpse into the little sky
of mind.

They are sometimes sung
among the clouds or dropped
in silver words upon a soundless sea.
They are a moment breaking open,
a sip of understanding, an arrow
piercing the heart with a surprise
of unknown light.
 Dec 2024 Strawblee
Sara Brummer
FIREWORKS


A summer night and fireworks
break dark’s quiet whisper,
drowning fragile moonlight.

First a flickering, then
a blossoming of color--
wild and illicit –and
the air’s askew with booms,
delirious with fiery chaos
as a million man-made stars
tumble across sky.

A veil of smoke creates
a glorious illusion --
the art of pyrotechnics.

A stolen moment’s exaltation
without the wariness of danger.
As fire jewels dwindle to obscurity,
there is a strong spell of reversal.
What seemed like revelation fades.

Universe returns to mystery
and mind to world’s reality.
I am
so
grateful

For the
stunning beauty
that my eyes
can
            still
                      see...
I am so grateful
that
       LIFE
has been mostly good
and that I can
            still
                   give thanks,  
each   and  every   single    day

                WITH A GRATEFUL HEART.
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