Tag: writer
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Convos in the Time of Corona
~ a vignette ~ “How ya doing, Franz?” He stared back at me in silence. “I said how are you doing?” I shook my head and made my way to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I pulled out spaghetti, shoveled it onto a plate and placed it in the microwave. He doesn’t even have the…
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Beautifully imperfect
what is the age when we start to become aware of our imperfectionsbelieving that something is wrong because we’re different than the rest when did differences become a stigma and not a sign of uniquenesswhen did conformity become more important than originality we were created to push our limitswe were created to beat their own…
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A Haiku: Being
Live in this momentEnjoy the wonder and aweGet lost in being -akw- (Part of the Watercolor & Words Series) ___ Haiku Prints available on Society6 by clicking here. ©2020 Angel K Will | Instagram • Facebook • TwitterPhoto by Tina Nord from Pexels *This poem is included in the book — The Owl in the…
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A Haiku: Uncertainty
uncertainty heretapping at my heart, “let me in”but peace locks the door -akw- (Part of the Watercolor & Words Series) ___ Haiku Prints available on Society6 by clicking here. ©2020 Angel K Will | Instagram • Facebook • TwitterPhoto by Markus Spiske from Pexels *This poem is included in the book — The Owl in…
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Love roams free
envision a world with your third eyebetween the water and the skyanother dimension where love roams freeno bounds, no restrictions, only generosityyou can be you, and I’ll be mea world where everyone can seeall are the same, for we are all oneno longer considered a prodigal sona world where everyone can belongthis is my heart’s…
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Don’t run
~ a vignette ~ I backed away, slowly inching toward the river. My breathe calm and steady even as my heart raced. Thump-thump-thump; thump-thump-thump; thump-thump-thump. Doing my best to avoid direct eye contact, I froze when I heard the crackle of the branch under my foot. Time stood still for a fraction of a second…
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Morning Habits
~ a vignette ~ Looking down at my fingertips, I notice them black, smudged by the paper. It’s part of my habit. Coffee brewed at 6:30 am every morning for the past twenty years. An English muffin topped with sweet marmalade and three slices of jalapeño. And a single fried egg with bacon. Always with…
Angel K Will 