SHE SAT IN HER MINIVAN

She sat wondering what he saw in her She wasn’t the colorful person anymore The one that laughed louder than most Danced until her legs gave way to gravity She wasn’t the girl with the goth hair Or the one wearing the fishnets and heels She wasn’t that girl anymore She was too old, too…

BECOMING GROUND

Steps were heavy Growing heavier Taking more effort Making her slower A shaking began More of a tremor With each footfall Was a tidal wave Of fluid motion Her years kept her Clung to her bones And held her tight She was caught Underneath gravity Sink ing deeper Into the ground Becoming The ground

GOLDEN AGE

OK…so….John started this after reading something one of us wrote on twitter.  I am not sure what it was now; but it was funny….it was…really….I think.  Anyway, this poem reminds me of this picture I took being silly at a 1920’s party.  This is for everyone who gets tired of seeing me post vanity pics…