tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4863417462909147257.post7722439211069409977..comments2024-01-01T20:33:52.554-08:00Comments on a moon, worn as if it had been a shell: Saturday Poetry Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03313726816776097840noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4863417462909147257.post-37829856885837022622016-11-12T16:27:51.318-08:002016-11-12T16:27:51.318-08:00I also want you to know, Elizabeth, that I never l...I also want you to know, Elizabeth, that I never loose sight of how frighten this is for you and Sophie and your little family - and all the families in your community - I think of you everyday. " Who against hope believed in hope", we do.livhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00091094639074377780noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4863417462909147257.post-83398692540585431052016-11-12T16:14:31.421-08:002016-11-12T16:14:31.421-08:00I wish I had words for you, Elizabeth. Don't f...I wish I had words for you, Elizabeth. Don't forget to breathe. Birdiehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03479872783727855901noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4863417462909147257.post-34900775129188911992016-11-12T11:08:22.867-08:002016-11-12T11:08:22.867-08:00That photo, the essence of impending doom. One of ...That photo, the essence of impending doom. One of the things that keeps me in this mind-swirling shock is the realization that things have just barely begun. Just now, at the very edge of beginning we are seeing things we never thought we'd see again. The expanse of 4 years seems like a century. I eat up the women's march, the electoral petition, the safety pin and the night time protests. I want the mountain to keep rising and I'll keep placing little stone after little stone on it until it crushes all of this craziness.livhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00091094639074377780noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4863417462909147257.post-36458419287328534342016-11-12T08:30:05.712-08:002016-11-12T08:30:05.712-08:00What an incredibly perfect poem for these times. H...What an incredibly perfect poem for these times. How prescient she was. Or has the world changed so little? I confess I had thought we were further along. And perhaps we are, all evidence to the contrary. Hugs, dear friend.37paddingtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12400464105403622384noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4863417462909147257.post-91061310451131338112016-11-12T07:16:24.327-08:002016-11-12T07:16:24.327-08:00I don't know what to say.
It all still really...I don't know what to say. <br />It all still really, really sucks. <br />Dread. Despair. Depression. <br />D words. <br />Ms. Moonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09776404747858099919noreply@blogger.com