A place where you can be human.
A poem
I opened the window and it all went out.
It –the remanence of us
The poetry, the novel, the memories.
out with a whoosh. I stopped listening.
Drowned myself between the legs of a feral woman
What am I? Am I a woman
left to contemplate life and how I make anything of it
of art
of us
Not alone. There’s not a lonely bone in my body
What were we?
What are we?
The galaxies blaze with compounds that ignite the darkness
Is that us?
Jayne is a writer. On her free time she likes to be with her family hiking outdoors and traveling. New England is her home and place of birth. When asked what she wants to teach the world she replied, "Don't stop searching. Too many times, in my old life, I put my search aside for more 'important matters.' I didn't realize the thing I was searching for held what was most important; my soul purpose." Jayne works daily on improving her craft and at times can get down on herself, but her favorite morning mantra is "It's a new day." and that's what she strives to start with. View more posts
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