If I were to hold my heart in your kitchen, with its pink curtains and chartreuse stove and plastic burners glowing supernatural orange, I'd fire up the griddle and open freezer doors. Streaming hot milk, I would call you on the backline, I'd use the number I'd found as the train lurched by, in my favorite blue journal I'd sketch with my favorite black pencil. There I would copy - I'm only a scribe decorating sacred text - the code messaged on a billboard selling milk from happy, only happy black and white cows. It was you to me, streaming time.
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Deb Scott
Stoney Moss
10 comments:
Very, very nice, Deb.
What a beautiful view of a moment. Love it!
Great Deb, love the use of color here.
Very fine indeed.
Dave, I think you like it because of the cows.
Thanks, poets. Means a lot to me, your kinds words.
Oh, love this!
Wow, Deb,
This is lovely and well written. I'm jealous. A lot of things I think we hope to come together in a poem are here. Glad you shared the link and glad someone else has chosen to showcase your talent.
Beautiful work, Deb.
I like it, the words paint such a fine world with such fine details, I like the orange burner
found your blog through black-eye susan
Excellent. I would love to stay so aware of the moment that I didn't miss a thing.
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