Sounds like a rough world in which to live. The writing lives on and on…

DAMN! You’ve seen it all. Your description and detail is razor sharp. Explicit, and some readers may have a hard time with this material. But goddamn it’s to the point and marvelously executed.

Hello Elke. Outstanding story. A stellar piece of writing that captures so much detail and intrigue. A perfect piece for this time of year. Well done my friend. xo

Quite the riveting tale, Sappho! It was very clever of you to switch up the common portrayals of death and love. I enjoyed all the natural references and surprises you sprinkled throughout this piece. Excellent write, my friend.

Clay

I was way too chicken to get on top of any roof. lol
But I would lay on a trampoline at night which was so cool.
Mostly because it felt like I was floating while gazing at the sky. Night or day. Didn’t matter.
A nice escape – good for adults and kids.
We all need them to stop thinking about reality sometimes.

Oh, I understand. Sometimes a kid’s just gotta do what a kid’s gonna do. And it’s always worth it — especially when you look back at it from the distant now, and realize how much more we had then. I have to think I knew it then, or I wouldn’t have done it. The only way it could last was in my memory.

Live in a building where they have locked the roof. But I would gaze out the window and dream. Lived on the top floor.

hello dearest poet I feel the plight of humanity in and on my own body…we are not all so blind and unfeeling… great write ❤️

That’s very interesting — and scary. It must be very difficult to live this way. I wish you peace and thank you for sharing.

You write the truth.
Are we as a species , evolving or devolving.
Keep up the good work as you say lots with very few words.🙏

Thank you, M. It’s funny, but I think of that time often, up on that roof. I can still feel the scratchiness of those asphalt shingles and smell the honeysuckle wafting up from our back yard. Wondrous times, wondrous nights.

Wow! From the roof, gazing at stars and beauty, to gazing at minds and blackness. I love it. I am still gathering material to my “roof” poem. I enjoyed reading your roof poem. Well done, FD “)

Neruda would’ve invited you over for a beer on the veranda, and talk words with you. What an afternoon that woulda been, huh. You’d fit right in.