We go out together into the staring town
And buy cheese and bread and little jugs with
Not to the staring Day,
For all the importunate questionings he pursues
In his big, violent voice,
Shall those mild things of bulk and multitude,
staring into the sun
the burning love
I like to Stare upwards at what would be stars if there were no clouds.
Like dropp of cream into coffee mugs, dark mocha interrupted.
Sprinkles of dissappointment reaching for cumulonimbus sugar cubes, but realizing there ain't stratus to sweeten my day.
Night walk interrupted as I trip over starlit cream skin, sprinkled with essence of cherries on top of mountains of 'bet you wish you had a spoon' of 'first come, last served' of M.C. Hammer touchables.
Staring into darkness
What do my eyes behold?
A glimpse into the world
Of many secrets untold.
Staring out the window, looking at reflections of double images staring back at me.
Watching leaves shaking slightly in the night time breeze.
Mindful of many joyful memories of Mom, tears fill my eyes because she is not home.
Pulling my heart like salt water taffy in all directions, emotions continue to tear me apart.
i know i am not alone
experiencing this kind of stare
at the monitor when you think you cannot write
not because there is nothing to write anymore but because