March Nicks

Ink on the page,
painting pictures of life,
of death, and all the things between.
Prompted to write for a moment of escape,
...

Our mother cradles us to sooth our pain
She covers us in a hedge of protection
Keeping out the monsters that lie under our beds
Waiting for the right moment as we sleep our dream away
...

Time is fleeting, our days depleting
We have to get this right

Polar bears are starving,
...

As children, our cries are hushed
Our parents beg us not to make a scene
Sit down, be calm, be quiet
Don't draw attention
...

It could happen to you
The news make's it seem so foreign
People crying
Asking questions
...

Let's pause for a moment of silence

Columbine
Heritage
...

Dear Emilie,

They say your smile could light up a room
You were bright and creative
...

Hunkered down
In a
Dark room
We wait
...

A tiny blue dot floats through the void
As it approaches, so much more is revealed
Mountains that reach high into the clouds
Kissing the atmosphere
...

Ahem, we call this meeting to order.
An official gathering of
The Banned Books Club.
Please stand
...

Crackle, crackle, pop
Pages smoldering in the streets
Instead of words searing themselves into minds
They scorch the pavement
...

Are you looking to expand your knowledge?
Journey to a new world,
Learn about a time long, long ago?
I have the thing just for you!
...

You are a new and shiny book
Your pages are just waiting to be turned
Your words are just waiting to be read
Your covers are yearning to be held
...

Imagine a world where every word
Ever spoken, ever written, ever uttered;
Simply faded away.
Just into the ether, leaving not a trace.
...

How dangerous can a book really be?
Words that can be smudged
Pages as fragile as a porcelain doll
Ripped, crinkled and wrinkled, their ink unrecognizable
...

In the quiet dawn, where mist drapes the hills,
a girl stands at the edge of the woods,
breathes in the earth, the stories woven into the soil.
She gathers the whispers of elders,
...

The mountains rise like walls,
tall and unyielding,
their shadows stretch across the valley,
a heavy blanket that stifles the sun.
...

I left when the dawn painted the sky,
took the winding roads that led me away,
the mountains fading into a memory,
their towering forms a silhouette against the horizon,
...

I return,
the weight of years carried softly,
each step a familiar echo on the path,
the air thick with memories,
...

Do you remember your first book?
The first one you read all on your own?
The first time that words came to life?
...