inbox

*

oh, how i wish the things i’d find in my email inbox every day were sweet symphonies. small, delicious feasts. poems from inside the light of an endless bright star. golden-toned photographs of a 90-year old man pouring his daily cuppa tea. why can’t my box be stuffed with a thousand or more songs that leap, some shining stars, a little knowledge, tiny stories, light bouncing out of the glistening cup? why can’t there be magic when i click open?

i don’t want to buy or sell your things. i want to know where your soul has been.

2 comments

  1. denise · August 26, 2009

    understandable request.

  2. phoebe · August 27, 2009

    yes

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s