{March 25, 2011}   Kind of a poem I wrote, although it is very off-sounding, due to lack of practice in writing and brain fog. Here it is anyway.


— Too Much To Ask–

Sometimes the heated weight

Of this week

Hovers in static smoke

At my feet,

Hassling the nails

From the floor–


Cold ashes

To stew

In forgotten gardens.

I want to walk—

No, want to jump


The feverish,

Tangled flowers


This unknown life

Away from light.

Seven lost years

(Maybe more)

Is too much

To ask.


Garrett says:

Oh honey I love it. Gonna make me cry. Love you!

Mom says:

What a well-wrtten poem-Your talent for creating such realstic imagery has not faded nor been clouded over by brainfag..Can’t wait to read your poetry of when you do get better, too! Love you-keep writing-it is your gift to those who love you so very much! 🙂

Mom says:

OOpppps make that brain f-o-g!! Long day!!

Thank you so much, you too! Thank you, Mom..means a lot to me. I am trying, although the words didn’t come easily to me. Still though, this was my first poem in awhile, so I suppose that is encouraging. Love you!

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