The scent of rain, as an ancient redwood tree points to the first evening star. – Dr.SunWolf, professorsunwolf.com
She throws her coin into a fountain already filled with hopeful coins, yet wonders if the wishes might become tangled. – Dr.SunWolf, professorsunwolf.com
A flock of geese leave their lake and take wing, turning to poems in the sky. – Dr.SunWolf, professorsunwolf.com
“Most poems are never finished,” (I was defensive). He sighed: “No, most poems are never started.” – Dr.SunWolf, professorsunwolf.com
Reclaiming the word fat was the most empowering step in my progress. I stopped using it for insult or degradation and instead replaced it with truth, because the truth is that I am fat, and thats ok. So now when someone calls me fat, I agree, whereas before I would get embarrassed and emotional. – Beth Ditto