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In July 2023 I posted a poem entitled For Hours of Time.
Little did I know at the time that it would be taken by a composer and turned into a piece of music (with my permission!) this year.
The composition is for a solo violin and choir.
Below is a link to the video:

https://youtu.be/mpGcrWHwb7g?si=5loGIGzfUcGVN7VN

I hope you enjoy Sy Anderson and Pagan Pauls collaboration.
I'm really proud of it!
https://youtu.be/mpGcrWHwb7g?si=5loGIGzfUcGVN7VN
i don't know how old i was, 8 or 10.

I climbed out the window
onto the roof of the garage.

it was summer.

I lied down
and gazed at the stars for hours.

i reached to touch moonbeams,
and with my finger
drew a circle around the north star.

i dissolved into the hush of stars
free of want or need.

a single heart beat.
I, the wind, moon, stars.

I long to lie on the roof, again,
gaze at the stars
and filled with wonder.
(a series of micro vignettes)

Chella and I are reading our analysis assignments together because that’s how we link and build.
We read out loud too, because how else can you judge the flow?
When my phone, lying on the table, jiggled. The caller ID read, “Tommy’s girlfriend.”
Chella gave me a little look. “I never change anyone’s ID,” I confessed. “Neither do I.” Cellia agreed.
“She broke up with him years ago..”

I feel sorry for panhandlers, I don’t see them often but I saw one yesterday. Who carries cash any more (Noone)?
Along the same line, Chella and I are wired, it-girls - we’re noise cancelled. Were you talkin’ to us?
We’re hard to engage, not because we’ve got attitude - we just can’t hear you. It’s irritating when I have to tap-out of some stream to hear people.
Even if it’s the waiter from the bistro downstairs delivering their exemplary frozen-strawberry-smoothies and burgers.

Later, after the pool, we showered. As I was toweling my hair, I studied myself in the mirror.
“My skin is SO ******* up,” I moaned, “I need a ‘rescue spa’ ******.. Let’s go to New York (city)—I’m taking you there.”
“There’s a ‘Forever Young Spa’ on Beacon street.. about a mile from here,” Cellia offered.
“Ever been there?” I asked.
“No, but the ad says they have an AI-powered massage robot. I’m curious.”
“Ooo! Call ‘em up, see if it does happy-endings.” I laughed.
“We could get a home unit.” Cellia updogged.
“I think we’d need the industrial version,” I added, “that’s the sell.”
.
.
A little playlist for this:
Nothing Can Stop Us by Saint Etienne
Goodbye by The Sundays

Our cast:
Chella, A tall, lithe black girl, from Liberty City (Miami) Florida. She's a Harvard Master's candidate with a ‘Bachelor of Science in Global Affairs’ from Yale. She had it rough growing up - she was buying skin-care at Trader Joes! I'm showing her some things.
Your author, a simple trust-fund baby from Athens, Georgia and a Harvard Master's candidate with a Bachelor of Science in Molecular Biophysics and Biochemistry from Yale.
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 07/08/25:
Exemplary = extremely good and deserves to be admired and copied.

Burgers = bacon cheeseburger w/tomato, sautéed onions, ketchup and fries
- hold the mayo and mustard.
When miracles were given away,
It's found that there weren't them for me.
Maybe they didn't put down me in list
Or I forgot to join a queue, you see?

Maybe I got on a shift turnover.
Wizardry's also a job, hearsay,
With lunches, holidays and days off surely.
There're no fools to work the whole days.

Well, I guess I'll have to wait.
I'm a human. I know what's what.
I'll scroop by myself. I'll be patient.
I'll do my best. I hope I would.
Thank you very much for reading it! 🙏💖
I tried to define us with words––what I thought you felt,
what I hoped we were.

But you told me,
more than once.
I just wasn’t ready to hear it.
I clung to the lines I’d written,
while your actions
kept rewriting the truth.

It wasn’t silence that hurt.
It wasn’t the echo of what you said finally sinking in––
It was not realizing sooner…
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