Tag Archives: Childhood

Oversight

A bee sting, painful, burning – calls to mind my days of youth, yearning. As the pain dulls, I wonder at his power – of him who mistook me for a flower. Copyright © 2013 Shainbird. All rights reserved. Advertisements

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Of Late, I Think of Oxford

My eyes float away to coordinates unmapped By objects in plain view. Of late, I think Of Oxford and of trees sharing their domain With the sun’s rays, casting patches of gold And umber upon lawns immaculate as I float … Continue reading

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The Entertainer

Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta Whizzed by our house, Our street empty Of children for him to slow, stop. His anthem riding the air Wafting into windows, waking Up the kid dormant in us all. … Continue reading

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