The Songs of All We Made
















on a tuesday in the evening I

curled into the

mindless humming of some

colorful game show

going in and out of the

flashes of white-blue light

that signaled all around our



nights are just

lamplight and the

turning of the washing

machine climbing through

these walls


stuck on repeat i am

constantly hunting little treasures

dish rags


a pair of your old


just searching for



i thumb through

aged magazines adorned

with your coffee rings

i fold corners and

leave them open


the bed is never


i need that sense of



outside the grass

is so close to

hiding me from


and I am content

with fading back into the

songs of

all we made


Filed under Uncategorized, Writing

10 responses to “The Songs of All We Made

  1. Very emotive.
    Nicely done,
    Slowly melancholy
    Without spoiling the intimacy
    Through detail
    Or gild.


  2. “Melancholy”? Maybe I don’t know what that really means; this felt entirely comfortable…at home…at peace…the lullaby of the familiar singing your soul to rest. Nicely done!

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