Cross the threshold of voyeurism and become the scenery
Find your place in this masterpiece along life's journey
Those times you can find yourself in the frame of the present
Are the memories that never fade from your true evanescence
Touch the rain when it falls
Taste the snow on your tongue
Sing along with the thunder
Burn your heart to the sun
Lose your mind in the ocean
Run barefoot through the sand
Become part of the art
Hold the soil in your hand
Paint with the leaves and the berries and bark
All of these things that you feel in your heart
About the Creator
Renee Belden
I have spent decades traveling the United States as a carnie. I began my own business piecepartybygradysmokes.com last year.
My greatest aspiration is to write a poem that lives forever.
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Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson3 days ago in Fiction
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