Dog Kettle Door


Getting back into the flow of writing, mostly with wordplay and poems. I'm a creative soul, from childhood to middle age, and my joy is to produce new things the world has never seen before. I'm an educator from the USA working as a college professor of lit and music. I'm learning to love myself little by little.

My hand was burnt on the kettle

Just as it began to boil

My hand was bitten by a dog

I’d always thought was loyal.

I stepped on glass in my bare feet

Where it was safe before

You said, “I’m always here for you;”

Then you walked out the door.


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I sometimes find myself pondering all the abstract loss in my life. Then I step on a Lego brick barefoot and the present forces itself upon me once more.

  • #482 Posted 6 years ago
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