Everything old is new and everything new is old. Her life was filled with vintage items. She was a collecter. It filled her with happiness and a sense of history. It provided her with roots. Or a semblance thereof.
She looked at the spoon and reflected on how elegant it looked. The bell rung at that moment and she took several deep conscious breaths. She then started reciting her five key words: fly away, find the crumb. She deeply felt the tingling sensation of the breath entering and exiting her lungs. she felt everything. The bell rang ten more times. At that point she was anchored. She was unmovable as she drifted upwards. She was anchored yet unmoored. She picked up the spoon and placed it in her pocket. It would be a great tea stirrer. And with that she walked out the back door.
Categories: Psychology
It’s Lovely to Love a Crumb or a Ring or a Thing for the Love remains same
My Father left at 3 my
Mother said i idolized my
Father like a Ring that
Would never go away
Later i wore a Favorite
Ring out of a Bubble
Gum machine i Lost
It in the Waves terrified
i stayed until
Decades later
i became
The Wave The Ocean
The Beach all that is
Left is all that is
Left to Give
No one Will
Ever take
The Beach of
Me away now no
Thing for now love
Lives
As
Me..:)
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How beautiful!
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Thanks PM and thanks
Always for your eclectic
Mix of 6 AM Poetry a
Cup of Coffee for
Creative Sparks
For me but
i dare not
Drink
Caffeine lest
i shoot Beyond
The Stars And can’t
Find my way Back
Home like
A lost
Star Dog.. Hehe..;)
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love your story 🙂
sometime flash fiction is just what the doctor ordered
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Thank you for such kind words.
Hope the week ahead is a great one
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your featured image is just so beautifully rustic…. 🙂
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Aww. Thank you.
Have a great day
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