"heeey, bud..."

is that for me?

warm sort of chill

usually
it just pulsates
bump bump
bump bump
but today
it shudders
shivers
trembles
and a trickle of
something
a warm sort of chill
runs
down
to
my
toes

driving to Temple

The man on the side of the road is bent over, yielding an old hedge trimmer, hacking at the patches of green grass in the dirt pile at one end of the parking lot. The sun is shining on the white, flowery branches of the trees along the highway; he is leaving behind only tufts of brown deadness, crushed into the limp, dry, earth.

xlerator

i like the way the heat from an automatic hand drier crinkles the skin on my hands like ripples on a pond

tulips in the public garden

i love Boston in the springtime

head
head
shoulder
(knees
and
toes?)

stomach,
lungs
and

heart

mid-run rainstorm - a drabble of 100 words

tiny spires of coldness and hardness pinch the skin on my face, stinging mercilessly, before morphing into cool globs of soothing liquid that well up on the shoulders and forearms of my cotton t-shirt. mascara pools in my lashes, streaks down my cheeks. sweat and water run into my mouth, tasting agonizingly pure and marvelously primitive at the same time. the beat of sneakers on asphalt synchronizes with the rush of wind and the patter and splat of raindrops on the ground.

the cares of the world rush out the soles of my feet and away down the heaven-stained street.


"tonight she's out to lose herself..."

it?

i want to say it's hypothetical
i want to say it's theoretical
i want to say it's not so incredible

but my heart's beating so fast...

new deep

"look at the stars
don't they remind you
just how feeble we are
well they used to
i guess"

sometime Sunday morning

acoustic guitar
a little percussion
the door
banging lightly in its frame
every time the breeze
slips in softly
rippling the curtain
as it goes
blending with the sunbeams
and the music


i love you.
(c)2010 Emma Gay

on

he walked by, drumming the paperback book in his right hand twice on top of my head. the little button on my sky blue baseball cap poked my scalp two times. i turned. i smiled. "hey," i said.

God made days short

does it honor God
if i ace this test
but don't study
at all?
does it honor God
if i study for hours
but can't do devotions
at night?
does it honor God
if i read his word
but fail the test
i couldn't study for?

does it honor God
to do some things halfway?
does it honor God
to do everything best?

i can't do it all
you
know

grief

driving slowly -
all right, not so slowly -
out to village street
wave to the twins
playing basketball in their driveway
they wave back
but i don't think
they know
me

clutch, brake, blinker
look, clutch, gas
thinking
about the
muted yellow
bundle
in the passenger seat
the green-sweatshirted
someone
in the whitish-grey house

sun through the windows
wind in my face
i can't stop smiling
coming up on cottage street
hey!
i want to show...

oh.



right.

my grammy will never see my prom dress.