The walk from school
Walking home
from school
with a friend.
She golden
wrinkled haired
laughed smiled
I remember
her green eyes
the same year
Sylvia Plath
died alone.
The gas oven.
Town gas.
And she walked
home from school
to find her mother
lying down there
on the kitchen floor.
And Jackie
Had gone too.
Emotional musings
storytelling the world through travels & books
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Music | Literature | People.
"I have enough time to rest, but I don't have a minute to waste". Come and catch me with your wise words and we will have some fun with our words of wisdom.
A Social Impact Lifestyle
Daydreaming and then, maybe, writing a poem about it. And that's my life.
Irreverence's Glittering New Low!
Finding things, collecting ideas, making art
Your Health and Wealth Upgrade
How to Kick Guilt in the Balls.
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