20 Pieces: A little poetry project

In class exercise where Alison gave us instructions (write a metaphor...Use a proper name...Tell a lie...Etc)

My heart is a bungee jumper plummeting down to the unknown.

I wake to dog's breath.

A flute solo. A warm kiss. Brown eyes with flecks of green...crinkles around them. A crisp apple. My laundry after it is done in the dryer.

I saw before me a warm smile as i hugged my grandmother.

her name was Ruth Wilson SanSimeon. Full of families of women with heads held high despite tragedies and oppression.

Her name as not SanSimeon. But the lie was not total. She lived outside the city of San Simeon and loved to drive to Hearst Castle to see the objects purged from Europe and brought to America. It was the closest she'd get.

My father's Corvette is a brilliant white with no scratches or rust to be seen. "Upair" is where he keeps his favourite California Car Duster. Just behind the wooden sign. Why it was hidden there, i'll never comprehend.

He knew if i used it for my car, the paint would not shine but would turn my car from midnight blue to red and perhaps he would fear the Corvette tainted.

"I have coffee on my hand and sweatshirt but it hasn't spilled out of the cup!!"

The snow is my shower as i walk to class despite my clean hair.

I watched a giraffe on the discovery channel fall over its own feet. Aren't they supposed to edit these things?

I rode a camel through the desert, abandoned of all hope. I fell forward in the saddle before i came to a town.

"Stacey is a waterworks" I heard him say.

he will not remember me. or her. we will part ways and at first stay in contact with overly simplified emails and birthday cards. But it will fade and while i will be slumped like a wilting sunflower, i will grow again.

I found on my desk my harmonious post cards i was to bring to europe.

"I am going to be the first woman to hike up the Eiffel tower."

Mais, c'est impossible. Ah, c'est la vie mon chère. Je t'adore.......

The Tower hugged me in its arms as i climbed the stairs and felt as if i was with Ruth. Safe in her arms.

The coffee's steam rises from her sweatshirt.