Small Stone: August 28


Tonight
as I walked to buy 
a bottle of wine
I crossed my favorite 
pedestrian bridge
and took in
the summer air
of Pittsburgh.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I Don't Want to Write About This

Have you ever tried NOT to write about something? The topic might scare you, it might seem intimidating or it might force you to face your own flaws.  I have been trying to not write about this for a few weeks now out of fear and resistance of facing the things I need to work on.  I have to face up to the fact that maybe I'm not as open minded as I thought I was. When I was a kid, I assumed that everyone was treated fairly and with respect.  When I got older, I realized that viewpoint was incorrect.  I grew up in a suburb of Detroit that was very white.  When I was in junior high, the city decided to bus some of the students from the other side of town to our middle school.  This caused an uproar with parents, many of whom were white.  The kids being bussed in were of Middle Eastern descent and it was very clear that the fear felt by others was based on ignorance and discrimination.  Then, I went to college and majored in creative writing and women's studies.  I learned about
Read more

Where Have All the Cupcakes Gone?

Do you remeber Paula Cole's song, "Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?" I've replaced her cowboys with a craving for cupcakes. Where have all the cupcakes gone? I used to live four blocks away from a cupcake bakery in the Squirrel Hill section of Pittsburgh. On a daily basis I walked by the storefront and was greeted with cupcakes that looked like a piece of art. I am in Metro-Detroit now and can't find any cupcake stores. Help!
Read more

The Grand Lie

Image
I am writing this entry looking out the window with the taste of freedom still fresh on my tongue. El Toro is asleep as usual. For her, freedom is simply the ability to live with adequate food, water, and shelter. I however, had much greater aspirations for my own liberation. I have been siting on this bench, which is located next to a large window, watching the snow fall for the past two days outside. I had dreamt about seeing the world outside many times when I was at the mill. I imagined running on the velvety green grass as it brushed my underbelly while I pranced in a field, a backyard, or even a city park. I once had hoped that when freedom had found me that I would visit a lovely coffee shop and smell the bold aroma of cocoa beans and cinnamon, even if just from right outside the door because dogs are not allowed inside. Damn you Luongo, the lying Dachshund who told me stories of hope while in captivity, of his life before he was taken to the mill. He never mentioned t
Read more