You'll get invited to our Meetups as soon as they're scheduled!
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If you have a favorite piece of poetry that you feel might fit the theme of the garden WALKWAY or you have a special piece of literature that might fit, please submit it!
If the poetry fits, I will re-print it and frame it and incorporate it into the walkway this year. If we get enough submissions, possibly then we can do a showing of the poetry! THANKS for you help and input! Fena |
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Windchime
She goes out to hang the windchime in her nightie and her work boots. It's six-thirty in the morning and she's standing on the plastic ice chest tiptoe to reach the crossbeam of the porch, windchime in her left hand, hammer in her right, the nail gripped tight between her teeth but nothing happens next because she's trying to figure out how to switch #1 with #3. She must have been standing in the kitchen, coffee in her hand, asleep, when she heard it?the wind blowing through the sound the windchime wasn't making because it wasn't there. No one, including me, especially anymore believes till death do us part, but I can see what I would miss in leaving? the way her ankles go into the work boots as she stands on the ice chest; the problem scrunched into her forehead; the little kissable mouth with the nail in it. |