Come here
I listen to birds call outside,
a few cars gun their motors on the trail.
Inside, the muse is silent.
I have not walked enough, not paused enough,
not held my tongue.
For too many hours of the day, I have pushed words onto paper,
forced them to step up to the plate,
toe the line, shape up.
Instead of letting them circle round,
sit still, lift off, rise.
I stand in the shadows, watch a curtain lift and let go.
A child calls to a friend across the street,
“Come here! Now. I need you!”
Beautiful! The photo somehow complements the verse!
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Thank you! You are always so kind.
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wonderful words and photo!
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Thanks! How are your classes going? What are you studying?
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Beautiful poem. Sometimes, as I am learning, simply being in the moment is enough. The photo, of course is a dream come to life. The kind of photo I wish I could say I took but never will–at least here in SoCal where so many homes are air-conditioned and thus the windows are never opened. And if they were, there would be no thin curtains to blow up. Just slat, plastic blinds.
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I covet central air in August, but I love open windows, especially in the early morning when the birds are just waking up. Thanks for sharing that.
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Wonderful!
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Beautiful photo! Beautiful poem!
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Thanks!
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I love that photo… so breezy and free. 🙂
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