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Natalie Aug 16
The laundry heap sighs, one shirt less burdened
Ever tense, the afternoon, ever still
Clouds crawl by like television static
Not a drop of rain meets the windowsill

Just a squatter, hidden away
Idle hands, second-hand body
A vacant home, a fragile world
Everything fits a bit oddly
Photo of a street in the Mountains and thanks.

Maybe last.
In anxiety... purpose.
Pending in leaves made.
From you.


Garrett Johnson.
****, I left in on.
Grey Poduska Jun 7
The emerald leaves were twinkling in the afternoon sun,
as I counted down the minutes, the seconds until one,
for I knew my end would be there soon.
I laid in the grass so the earth could consume
me as an uncorked wine, my spoil had begun.

g.g.p.
Persephone May 6
She drowned herself in books
Exploring worlds that helped her breathe
David Naumann Mar 25
Ripples of water, reflections of the night sky
and inflections of why, words came but all authors’
pens dried and faltered, moments of the divine
lost to the sacrilege of time, feeling came but altered.

Darkness came and surrounded,
confusion came and confounded,
as deep as valleys, as tall as mountains,
heartbeat in chest pounded.

Little lamp lead the way, the end is not today.
Tomorrow will come and stay, so do what I must to stay
a lit by this gentle flame, as all of will not be in vane.
I said aloud in a moment of panic to stay sane.

But time came and the light did not falter,
faith grew in this little, little light of mine,
and it grew to shine without any signs of alter.
Hope flickered as the flame stayed a lit on the twine.

Alone and afraid, frayed rope dwindling
burning as vibrant kindling, however closer did it fade
luckily in the darkness laid, countless stars swindling.
My heart rejoices as I have made it to the rekindling.

No longer alone, no longer afraid
pulse dropped, pounding stopped
the stars came and a lit my flame
I need to thank them all by name.

As I laid staring up at the stars,
feeling so small and alone on Mars,
I forgot all of the people who have came
who shared their soul and flame.

I hope I can keep being your flame,
and a piece of yours mine.
Days will be dark and dreary,
but shine on and shine forth into the night.
Love and adore all that we have.
Bohemian Mar 22
https://pacificunderthesun.blogspot.com/2021/03/one-afternoon.html

It was a Sunday afternoon in the month of March. The house had fallen silent, he was asleep in the bedroom for sometime. At tea time...
You could check this out. It's new. :))
Natalie Mar 18
A fragmented leaf
A crumb of dirt
A screen door

Flip-flops, rugs
Flagstone and gravel and grass
Half a dozen different chairs
Some chilly, fleeting air

A sun somewhere
And over there
The contrails tangle
And quickly fade away

The ever-shifting clouds
Laughter, cars, and blurry words
A dozen different chirps
I feel them flit away
Trevor Dowe Feb 23
summer afternoons
where the cicada screams were a deafening silence
heat and humidity, offset by shade and sprinklers
long days, warm nights
star gazing, cloud watching, day dreaming
nostalgia and retrospective bring me a peace and serenity
I once again long for
simplicity and carefree
summer afternoons
thunder rattles the walls as rain tap dances across the windows
puddles for splashing
nestled up reading, mornings come too soon
no worries with nigh limitless freedom
forts to build and pranks to play
laying on the porch swing listening to music
tide coming in tide going out
brackish water on the breeze
fiddler ***** scurry
lazy rabbits and cheerful birds
wonderful and longed for
endless
eternal
summer afternoons
Natalie Feb 4
Ever densest now,
Now, a humid haze
Scenes and stages
A VHS - the joy of painting
A DVD - it's the one with Ross and Rachel
I know it, I've seen it before
I haven't, but I know

A laugh track thuds against the humming air conditioner
It's sort of melty
Warm gummies
Adhesive on someone's fingers
It tingles - unpleasant
Water is away, and just as warm
The couch doesn't yield
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