The sound of oversized boots dragging across wooden floors announced that it was 2:40 p.m. Shuffles, as we called her, would arrive each day, walk to the back of the store where the cash desk was situated, touch three things, and then turn around and slump on to her next stop. She had a mop […]
“This is a lot of stuff to remember, Grandma!” Seven-year-old Sloane and I are making a Zentangle. She’d tried to copy my work on her own with no success, so I’m teaching her step by step. “That’s why we keep practicing.” “Practice makes permanent!” “Do you mean perfect?” “No permanent. That’s what my teacher says.” […]
When nineteen-year-old Faby attends the annual Vaudeville Show in her small town, she is hoping to escape to the drudgery of day-to-day life in the Gauthier household, where chores are watched over by the critical eye of Maman and Maman Aurore. The year is 1924, the setting small town Vermont, USA, and even though she’s […]
Yes, I need to learn to embrace the rain like a duck does!
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Ha ha – don’t we all.
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Whether it is weather or metaphor. 🙂
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Exactly.
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Very nice Haiku! Says a lot with few words.
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Thank you, Betty!
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Love this–I seriously need to start “being a duck”! 🙂
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My mother always recommended it, lol.
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It sounds like a very helpful visual for me to employ, so I’m grateful !
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Delightful
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Thank you.
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Most welcome
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You know what else ducks do well? They float. They may be in the water, but they’re not subject to its currents and tides. Great poem, V.J.!
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Yes they do! thanks Heide.
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