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Array
(
[sid] => 132363
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Saturday Afternoon
[time] => 2007-03-04 12:20:47
[hometext] => hope ya like it.
[bodytext] => It aint like I was framed for murder She said, settling herself into the porch chair. it let out a forgiving creak. Shown desert-red by the late afternoon sun of late summer, and she was obliged to shield her Eyes only slightly by the light. It wasn’t painful, it was a reminder that life aint gonna just hand you a sunrise and expect none of your effort to enjoy it. There were few clouds to speak of in the sky, The most well-formed of which were from airplanes anyhow, Man-made clouds. A vague haze lounged, intensifying the red surroundings In a soft and scarcely noticeable fashion, It was lazy, lazy, it was lazy, and it had a calming notion most closely resembling the effect of a quiet fire, dissipated beyond anywhere she cared to look. In reality, it was a dull combination of atmosphere and dust, and she imagined the individual rays of light bouncing off the particles and directing all at her, feeling as though she too, should she allow it (of course), dissipate into the Everywhere. She lingered momentarily on the curiosity of her comfort in this thought. It was romance. It was déjà vu. She knew that somewhere a certain balance of ignorance and understanding of this image would scare her, and she was not sure which quality she owned most. It didn’t matter anyways, she was more thankful for the wind on her skin than life in her veins. She breathed out, with almost visible relaxation I aint dead yet and I aint gonna die She said, inhaled and then closed her eyes. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 178 [topic] => 21 [informant] => Benny14 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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