A long preparation for something that always happens: i.e., death.
A long preparation for something that always happens: i.e., death.
poetry to heal the heart
zany dog exploits - and other tails
daily writing
observations of our world...usually smooth, sometimes lumpy
A collection of poems
writing by David
artist | storyteller
An author of creative writing, short stories, poetry, eccentric ideas, and way too many cliff-hangers
Welcome back! —CC
Thanks a lot. It’s nice to cross words again.
You bet. I look forward to new b-jams.
My next door neighbor died relatively young about three years ago. When she told me she had cancer, she was quick to add, “Don’t tell me you’re sorry, tell me jokes instead.”
Ooops! I meant to add. She seemed to me prepared.
That’s sad and sweet. And it’s tough to remember, but: death is really another part of life.