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  • Posted in Blogs ·
    Saturday, 15 November 2014

    So who was I at nine or ten? What was precious to me? What gave me fulfillment? What shaped my world? At nine and ten, I was sometimes quiet, and some times quite noisy. I hated kickball, but loved to jump rope. I was afraid of whizzing balls going
  • Posted in Blogs ·
    Saturday, 15 November 2014

    Tiny fragments of pain, shards of random thoughts, the sharp feelings cut deep into my heart~ heart aches ©annettealaine 2014
  • Posted in Blogs ·
    Saturday, 15 November 2014

    Shivering in the cold, she refuses to yield, to return to the scene of the crime~ sharp words left hanging in the air, peace shattered over a bowl of oatmeal annettealaine 2014
  • Posted in Blogs ·
    Saturday, 27 September 2014

    She sits on the side of the road~ arms wrapped around her knees, head bent, shoulders heaving. The white Cadillac idles on a side street, passenger door propped open~ the driver walks to the road, steps gingerly towards her, arms outstretched
  • Posted in Blogs ·
    Sunday, 24 August 2014

    Just for today,I'm going to shut out the chaos, and side step the drama. Just for today,I'm going to quiet the negative voices that echo through my brain. Just for today,I'm going to power down, and sit with the silence. Just for today,I'm going t

Latest Comments

Ken Hartke In Praise of Old Hotels – Taos and Leadville
21 July 2017
The road is always calling... I'm debating with myself about driving up into Wyoming for the solar e...
Stephen Evans In Praise of Old Hotels – Taos and Leadville
20 July 2017
I so enjoy these - they make me want to hit the road!
Ken Hartke In Praise of Old Hotels – Taos and Leadville
20 July 2017
I'm glad you liked it. I enjoy visiting these authentic old places and appreciate the effort to kee...
Katherine Gregor In Praise of Old Hotels – Taos and Leadville
20 July 2017
I so enjoy your descriptions of various hotels! Each has its distinctive personality. I have fond m...
Stephen Evans The Poem I would have Writ
14 July 2017
Maybe it is an excuse though I tend to read is more as frustration with the choice between being in...

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