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©2016-2018 by Pat Durmon, Poet. Proudly created with Wix.com

August 28, 2017

I keep bumping into people who look fine on the outside. When I stay quiet and listen, they talk on. That person is leaving a familiar rut to just talk. I prize the moment, the heart connection.

The good news: when we expose a sadness, healing begins; when we expose the...

August 21, 2017

I woke up at 3:28. Plenty of time to dread the upcoming dental work. A front tooth was loose. According to my dentist, the tooth could crumble when he pulls it. Then what?

I sat up in bed, imagining a 73-year-old woman with a missing front tooth. Not cute like with a fi...

August 14, 2017

Summer or winter, I throw open the blinds and curtains. I want light like a sunflower standing tall in a garden.

When others think there’s enough light, I am looking for more, always looking.

Something about seeing. Something sacred about it.

Last week, I left a soft ligh...

August 7, 2017

I listen to young teens ruminating about the great harvest of apples, nests in the trees, apples of “no worth” purposefully left behind for squirrels and crows, how to place the stem end on the peeler….

I wonder if they are deaf to their own words. Words sometimes holdi...

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