I listen
To him talking
A voice
I love to hear
I listen
to him talking
To someone
On the phone
One phone call
Two
Three
I linger near
To hear
The voice
I love to hear
Ball season
Has begun
I linger near
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
I began writing poems in third grade. During adolescence I wrote the bulk of my words. Expressing that urge to be understood or maybe trying to understand my own feelings. I haven't written much in the past 15 years, but I need to thank my HS English teacher for continuing as long as I did. Thanks Mr. Jim Springer!
Kalama 1962
Connections
Blog Archive
-
▼
2008
(37)
-
▼
April
(37)
- Find a Reason
- To Be or Not To Be (or a confrontation)
- volunteering in the classroom
- Columbia
- Eyes
- Lisa
- Drops of rain
- Wally
- Catching Eyes
- Summertime (1966, 3rd Grade with Mrs. Davis)
- Little League
- Grandmother
- Sometimes
- Shiftless Time
- Life
- Waking Up
- Today
- Happy was
- I'll keep on going
- Sleeping
- Birds
- Clarissa
- Garden Fence
- A Seedling, No More
- Parents
- Thoughts
- You & Me
- Teri
- How Far From Hell
- For Mr. Sager
- Thoughts pace my mind
- Round and round
- For You Mom
- The Accident on I-5
- Lisa's Here
- A Generation
- Only Memory
-
▼
April
(37)
About Me
- KandN
- N is retired and K is, too. N plays in the Willamette Valley Community Band. K spends her free time creating on the computer, reading and being amused by the birds in the backyard.
No comments:
Post a Comment