what i don’t want you to know

field of thistles

i could live without people,
a hermit on a lonely mountain
foraging in fields singing back to the birds
and whispering to the spiders spinning,
spilling hummingbird words that only i
have heard.



fuchsia flowers
i could be that crazy old lady in the falling-down house,
feeding ten feral cats
yelling at the children to scat from my yard,
but breathing sweet nothings to the riotous
fuchsia azaleas blooming in the hidden




i could be the wild-haired recluse in the book-filled garret,
smelling of old books and parchment
overflowing and piled high,
never leaving the house until all the heaps of paper are
crammed full of strands of words and the pens
run dry.

11 thoughts on “what i don’t want you to know

    • That was one of the topics for the poem month I did online — What I Don’t Want You to Know — it was probably one of those “volunteering days” and I was wishing I could stay home and write.


  1. I could easily become the Hermit of the Red Dog Estate. But alas, what fun would that be. I will be in my bathroom painting tonight instead of handing out, as well as eating, candy that would most likely end up in the garbage.


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