About Me

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i moved where my heart had drifted off to long before. i live on a hill of hundred acres, where my dreams have merged with the view. it is quiet from machine noises yet loud with sounds of horses, dogs, cats chickens and ducks. nature is the true artist in resident and i am just her apprentice who often gets lost in her gaze. once and a while i travel back to cities and foreign places to put into photographs what i have learned, yet always, part of my heart is left on the hill..

Sunday, December 23, 2007

Sunday morning voices

sleep something about
it makes me stay awake

I sit here in the cafe,
and all around me i hear voices
with tidbits of stories,

voices- sounds- some
rough, some loud and hardly
any of them soft.

the woman sitting right over
there she is loud, very loud
too loud

the men behind me they are
happy, you can tell their voices
are bouncing of each other just perfectly
I also heard them say they volunteer at a hospital
in south america -perhaps it is that very thing that
makes their voices pleasant

over there a boy, 6 maybe 7
sits there quietly playing with a gadget
while his father reads the paper, for a moment you might
think poor boy- how great if they where talking
but I think looking back at times from my own childhood
you remember sitting by the side of your father or mother
quietely and that memory is just as happy
they look alike the father and the son
it makes me smile
and for a moment it is quiet enough
to hear myself type
but soon it gets loud again, yes the woman
sitting there.

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