Topless wildflowers discover shame, sprout bandeaus to cover up from winter's peeping Tom sun. Overnight pink lipstick, low cut leaves, pert petals. Disbelief descends like a tornado or a gun. Amidst garden gossip, suicidal fantasies, hateful frost, innocence abandoned, fields overrun. One hellish spring, then puberty is done.
© 2023 | K. Hartless
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
That makes sense, wonderful, K. ❤️ Those were weird days…
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True. It’s really like every day for me with my students. And my future with my own two. Inescapable, it seems.
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You have all four hands busy each day, K! Wow, I couldn’t keep that pace up. God bless you and your family. ☺️🙏🏻❤️
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Thank you, John. I only wish I had two more hands to do more writing. 💜
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My babies are 29 and 31, one is married. Time marches forward.
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not sage
about the coming of age
read the book
take that look
ok now~
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Powerful imagery/ metaphor.
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Thank you, VJ.
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Welcome
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It’s hard to experience it and even rougher to watch our kids navigate the rough waves of puberty. You captured the experience really well here.
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