Mary Jane's Shoes

Mary Jane's Shoes

Musings of one person among many. Not exceptional in any way, as with all, I have exceptional experiences and varied reactions to those events. Mine is one of many life stories and how I manage and cope with the events which make my life my own, I attempt to put forth by way of my writings.

You can scroll the shelf using and keys

Yellow Plates

July 21, 2012


Twenty five years, scrubs blue

Drops of blood on running shoes

Determined movement with shoulders wide

Strength behind glasses, pride


Fumes of spent love drift,

as keys turn in their place.

The door locks,

and the black car pulls away,

as does the heart.


Skin-toned canvas pulls on metal poles.

Latches squeak;

against wind they hold.

Material from heat and sun is shielding,

except where there live holes.


Straining, as does the weave of two,

this canvas stretching

this couple too,

amongst palms,

yellow plates and many shoes,

lined along the entry wall.


The wind to rest, so as to relieve the tension,

relax the canvas.

The wind to slow, not pull the latches.

Given is a chance to catch a breath,

inhale strength and as I do, rest.


Prepared for the next storm

are tarp and myself.

Winds stir; latches tighten.

Another ache, my muscles brace.

The black car pulls away,

as does the heart.

What do you think?

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