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A China Cup
A china cup—chipped,
A garden trowel—bent,
A measuring spoon—dented.
All too small, too fragile
To hold a life well lived.
Her portrait on the wall,
Her books waiting to be read,
Her appointments abandoned.
All too empty, too cold,
Because she is gone.
And so is he.
His shared life—
Beyond repair.
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Update on FRIENDLY FIRE
I'm starting a new push to get this story finished. There's 349 double-spaced pages in my compiled print out. If I edit, rewrite, plug holes at a rate of 2.3 pages a day, I'll finish by December 31. Wish me luck! ;-) I've already dealt with 78 pages.
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Next Week: Tips Week--Story Structure
Lovely imagery!
ReplyDeleteOoh, finished by the end of the year? That would be so exciting!
Cross your fingers, Deniz! I think I just might pull it off this time. Of course, there are huge holes looming in the middle and I'm not there yet.
DeleteGreat poem--very evocative!
ReplyDeleteGood luck on your push to finish Friendly Fire! :)
Thanks, Lara!
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