Polariods Get Yellow is a collection of original poetry by Catherine M. Harris. It includes such favorites as "God and the 401" and "My Boy". Catherine M. Harris has previously been published by StoryTeller Magazine and was a Judge's Choice winner...
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When did the nights Turn so quiet and long And when did they Become cold and dark strangers Sharing a space in time Neither thought Could ever happen To them, the bestest of friends?
She remembers once he told her When she was 21 and had all of the answers Her viewpoint would change When she'd done A little more living A little more learning A little more finding her way.
She thought he was crazy She stands corrected, but then, He always is right, Isn't he - Even when he's not. And okay, she's not 21 anymore Glad of it too, that was hard to do He's burned his bridges And buried the ashes in his top drawer at work She lives her dreams vicariously Cheering her friends as they forge their way onward Watching her children grow Tending the flowers that dare to blossom Deep within her soul.
There was a time when stuff like this mattered A time when words could cut like a knife But you can only hear the same song sung So many times before You just don't listen anymore And blades dull the more often you use them Even the grinding stone wears out
'Till There's nothing but pieces of flint Best used in a Zippo (only the best soldiers use them, you know) Except someone forgot to tell him The other soldiers declared a truce And Laid their weapons down...
'Cause the nights just got too quiet and long And she sings her songs to the wind and the stars Maybe someday her viewpoint will change But if it does, it will be because she wants it to
'Cause she's still learning, still dreaming, Still being herself. And still saying, If he doesn't like it, that's too damn bad. Nope, some things don't change, And sometimes, People do.
Oh dear. You just have to be there to know the feeling. It's that point you reach in a relationship where you just have to say to hell with it, life's too short for this. Or, you write a poem.
