Monthly Archives: November 2013

I am From…

by

0

I am from basketballs; from Nintendo items and paint splatters.

I am from, the red brick house near the woods with the smell of beef stew coming from the kitchen.

I am from the cedar trees.

The pomegranate tree whose fruits and leaves long gone broken down adding memories into the dirt.

I am from potato pancakes and dancing under the Zilker tree on the cold winter nights of December,

from Robyn and Cathy.

I’m from Yiddish words, Deckfest, and from waffles on Sunday morning.

I’m from World War 2 stories and my moms stories of her childhood in New York and the Throw it Out the Window song.

I’m from Passover meals.

I’m from Austin “The Live Music Capital of the World” and Russian and Austrian ancestry.

From my great grandfather abandoning his own family coming to America.

I’m from the plates of my brothers birthday parties lining the wall.

I am from my beautiful home.

A Little White Flower

by

1

тнe нearт oғ a ғlower ιѕ a нearт oғ gold
ιтѕ warм and ғυzzy and nιce тo naтυre
тнιѕ ғlower нaѕ вeaυтιғυl pedalѕ
тнe color oғ wнιтe, a graceғυl, peaceғυl, and genтle color
тнe вeeѕ love тнιѕ ғlower вecaυѕe ιтѕ ѕo ѕweet
тнιѕ ғlower нaѕ ғearѕ тнoυgн
тнe ғear oғ geттιng тraмpled and dyιng ғroм geттιng pιcĸed υp and тнrown away
тнιѕ ғlower doeѕ noт ѕнow ιтѕ fear
ιт ѕнowѕ ιтѕ нappιeneѕѕ and ѕwayѕ ιn тнe wordѕ oғ coмplιмenтѕ oғ ιтѕ вeaυтy
now тнιѕ ιѕ a ѕpecιal ғlower one oғ a ĸιnd
no oтнer ғlower ιѕ lιĸe ιт
no oтнer perѕon ιѕ lιĸe ιт
now тнιѕ ғlower, ιѕ yoυ

Presents

by

2

Under a tree or on your Birthday,

Wrapped in paper or in a bag.

Coming from the ones you love,

with joy and care,

You probably adore the feeling of opening a big bag or a little small box.

If you like it or not you will always thank them for the appreciation.

Presents, a small little bundle of joy.

The Chase

by

1

This Saturday my friend Emma and I went down to a creek near her house. We travelled pretty far down the creek bed, hoping on rocks to get to a better path. We even stopped for lunch!(Don’t worry we didn’t forage for berries or feed off of plants we actually packed a lunch). Emma and I soon came to a very deep and wide part of the creek, and there was a gate blocking us from going any farther. I suggest we go find another place to cross, so that’s what we do. When we crossed we saw there was an opening in the gate, so like most curious people we decided to go through it. 2 minutes later we hear barking and a golden retriever running after us, with a man standing behind him yelling something that we couldn’t make out cause we were already running for our lives. I felt like a horse running with its mane flying behind it, avoiding tree branches and rocks. You see we thought they were following us cause we could always hear the little rings of the dog collar. Breathing hard we ran out of the woods and onto the pavement.

When we were walking back we started laughing and exaggerating the story, making up that the man had a shirt covered in blood, with a shotgun and the dog was bloodthirsty and fast as lightning! Now I know not to be to curious.