A long night
after a long day
for a short girl like me…
can only mean
one thing for sure,
but i don’t know what it might be.
Why is everyone so upset at the laundromat?
If only i could freeze time and live in this speckled sunshine.
This spoken poem is about an apple tree that was in my yard as a kid. In fact, it’s still there. Shasta and i really did eat apples from it, too.
Don’t you hate those mosquitoes? One bit me on the right big toe! Ow!
Do thunderstorms scare you, too?
My grass is really tall. Perhaps i should mow it?