One Hundred Words A Day
Wednesday, January 26, 2011

  Writing Prompt: "It's not marked but my feet know it..."

My home is no longer real--although I know it's there,
more like a corpse--eyes closed, hands folded
more like a couple whose love had been robbed
whose life descends to a merciless routine.

My home is here, beating in my heart--though only I feel it.
My simple bed is there, my white pillow,
window to the sky
sparrows learn to fly.

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Mother, Engineer, writer, manager, and more. I am a bit of everything, a creature of God. I am passionate with life. I fear death and its many forms. I love my mind, cherish my body. I express through WORDS.

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