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 Dec 2012 undefined
Lucanna
This may be the first time
I've let myself
Just be
listening to the blue calm
flow smoothly
through my veins
I hear my breath
shaped to the soft movement
of my lungs
This pearl energy
shifting
and comforting
the entity of me
Here I sit alone
independent from others
accepting
the

me.
to think of yourself in relation to no one or anything, unromantic
 Dec 2012 undefined
Lucanna
If only I were a type "a" personality
Then maybe I wouldn't be trapped by
All those that represent
Other letters of the alphabet

A free bird, caged by freedom
 Dec 2012 undefined
Hilda
When daybreak gilds the sky with rose
She wakens, her glad heart afire
Yearning in poems dreams to disclose.

Sighing she lays such dreams away
To give housecats their morning food,
Hoping to write another day.

And though the morning brief may be,
She helps her children with homeschool
Bridging lives for eternity.

Three miles trudging to stay all noon
Helping a crippled neighbor friend,
Then sighs to see the day die soon.

Homeward she steals 'neath setting rays.
On battered Steinway plays a hymn
Blending with softly gloaming dim.

She feeds the frightened strays so thin
Shiv'ring in blustering wind and cold,
Doleful as night comes howling in.

The clock strikes two, she falls asleep
Too weary to pen dying dreams,
Trusts someday glad  harvest to reap.

**~Hilda~
© Hilda December 7, 2012
 Dec 2012 undefined
Hilda
Solemnly the clock
Chiming forth its hours of time
Mocks mortality

~Hilda~
© Hilda December 19, 2012
What I would give to
be a lone grain within a
Sahara sandstorm
a fragment of drought
scattering itself across
nowhere, singing with
the slow erosion. I long
to be this, to be loved
despite it. You’ll always
drag your fingers through
me

how many grains can
the gusts steal before
a dune is gone? There’s
no such thing as a static
state: Everything dies
still nothing rests.
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