Up, up, up we went, the tracks clicking as we are closer to the crest. Suddenly, we stop, and our cart rests right at the top of the roller coaster. I look down at the little dots moving like ants below, some probably wondering what is going on. I shift my attention out to theContinue reading “Postcard #23: Savannah Jungle”
Tag Archives: Poetry
Postcard #22: California Dreaming
The boat thumps against the dock, jerking us forward. ” Sorry!” calls the sailor, his apologetic tone slightly slurs, indicating he had been asleep and wakening at the last possible minute. “Where are we?” my companion asks as they stretch, crossing their arms behind their neck and rolling their neck back and forth. “Give meContinue reading “Postcard #22: California Dreaming”
Postcard #21: The Mariner’s Tale
The car nearly collides into the boat. My mind, caught in a trap by the beautiful rise of the sun, drifts from the road and I neglect the gas pedal, letting Darth Vader glide seamlessly off the road and into the marina. Thump, thump, thump. The wheels bounce off the deck, and I finally slamContinue reading “Postcard #21: The Mariner’s Tale”
Postcard #19: Jolly Old England
The music fades. The sweet aroma hangs in the air, lingering as an aftertaste. We sit on the roof, our legs dangling over the side, and watch the people pass us by beneath the pink and purple of the falling sun. Another day is sweeping us by, but that does not matter. I am inContinue reading “Postcard #19: Jolly Old England”
Postcard #18: Singing the Blues in New Orleans
I stop the car at the edge of a small town. From the corner, I can hear the trumpet blare, the owner taking deliberately slow breaths to elongate the sound, speaking mournfully. The saxophone accompanies it, lifting its spirits up with a lighthearted joy. I nod my head, bouncing along to the sultry rhythm sweepingContinue reading “Postcard #18: Singing the Blues in New Orleans”
Postcard #17: Highway to Maine
It is quiet. The air is still except from our soft breathes gently rippling the calm pond. Our voices are strained and weary, yet full of stories battering hard at the walls, desperately trying to dislodge the stone. I drive. Gradually, the mountains slip away, shrinking into the background until the tallest point is onlyContinue reading “Postcard #17: Highway to Maine”
Postcard #16: Going South to North Carolina
The snow finally stops, with only a few flakes still drifting across the parking lot, swirling in one final performance before the white sky lifts its curtain and reveals the sparkling, clear night waiting to take the stage. They look behind their shoulder at the hotel, but the curtains are closed and their benefactor remainsContinue reading “Postcard #16: Going South to North Carolina”
Blank Postcard #6
Through the icy window I watch them slink out of the hotel, their hands shoved deeply inside their jean pocket. I should go after them, but I can’t. My feet are rooted in obstinacy. Where are they going? It doesn’t matter. Will they be okay? I do not care. The energy is zapped, stolen, andContinue reading “Blank Postcard #6”
Postcard #15: The Trail to Oregon
We sit in silence, the garble of the television the only thing coming between us. I don’t know why I turned it on; the cacophony is messy, indecipherable, and no good to our sensitive ears. Besides, how much do I want to somber my already somber mind with events of a future so bleak thatContinue reading “Postcard #15: The Trail to Oregon”
Postcard #14: Puerto Rico Sounds
I can hear the water crash against the rocky mountains. No, wait, that can’t be right. There is no ocean near the mountains. Where am I going? Back. I am going backwards. Bright yellow lights replace the dull blue and grey. The chirps of the tropical birds pierce my ears. Where am I? I don’tContinue reading “Postcard #14: Puerto Rico Sounds”
Postcards From Myself 