ORANGES
sometimes I’m sorry I was not
all green and yellow lights.
sometimes I’m sorry I was not
all green and yellow lights.
The visual cortex begins to interpret images and even change them before it even processes fully what they are, meaning that we often see things that aren’t actually there.
She was also, I should add, a very bad little dog, at least in the day-to-day business of dogging.
But I have to remind myself that the difficulty of others’ situations does not invalidate my own.
The pencils are another matter.
I remember kids’ delight in the graphic novel section, the way they stacked book after book in their arms. But I also remember parents’ reactions when their kids reached that shelf.
I run down the dune to be closer to the water and it feels like I’m flying. I don’t think about climbing back up.
it’s curious, the way we’re all tinted.
There’s something about the spotless sky and sixty-degree temperature that makes me wonder if God is personally sending an answer to our house like a speedy Prime delivery.
Somewhere between coats two and three you realize that four gallons and the anticipated three coats will not be nearly enough to snuff out the old colors.