Flying

Posted on March 16, 2013 by Dave Woodruff

From the book: Anodyne

The wings seem scarcely large enough to support us. At times the wing tips disappear into the mist and haze and I wonder if they are still even there. Moving in and out of cloud banks, has a similarity to opening and closing the curtains in a strange hotel...

Hope

Posted on March 16, 2013 by Dave Woodruff

From the book: Anodyne

When was the day that hope crept in? Where did it get the key, and hang its things in the closet? There aren’t enough hangers for both of us. When did it sneak past these paper walls so hastily erected, futile to stop the downpour of a sudden storm?

Leaves Heal

Posted on March 16, 2013 by Dave Woodruff

From the book: Anodyne

Time is measured by our observations of our surroundings, our interpretations of distance from event to event, from beginning to end, thoroughly.

Social Studies

Posted on March 16, 2013 by Dave Woodruff

From the book: Anodyne

This stupid chair is way too small, I can’t believe they still have these things. When the letter arrived I didn’t believe it. After nearly a dozen calls and two meetings in person I still didn’t believe it. It wasn’t something that is that easy to remember, but someone did.

the Countenance of Lilacs

Posted on March 16, 2013 by Dave Woodruff

From the book: Anodyne

More than a friend, less than a lover. Her eyes are a passage to an uncharted soul. I am drawn in by a force commanding my will with no resistance. Slight shifts of her brow, her cheek, can evoke startling changes, menacing, brooding, innocent, but always hiding in the shadows, alluring.