Writings

Category: Poetry Page 3 of 6

Broken windmill

A long time ago, I broke a guy’s heart. This is part of that story.

The apple tree

Me and little me

tomboy

Me on my 6th birthday.

I ride dirt bikes
take the biggest jumps
to enter serenity
where nothing lies between
you and the ground

A pleasant evening

Stretched out on the couch
I’m kept warm
under a comfy snowflake blanket
on a chilly evening
when the rains came

Flashback 57

Age

I’m still here

October

Same thing each year
nothing works

Night Terror

Photo by Sandra Reddish

Page 3 of 6

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