The Curtains

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My curtains are worn out, but they keep dancing. A full blooming yellow, they are optimistic.  Light and soft. Old, but alive.  I open my window and they breathe, expanding material outward. Their shadows scatter for the corners.  Gray is a wall flower that’s never painted on fabric.


  • A Word Of Substance is currently accepting submissions of photography. Your photograph must be of an object to be published on the blog. If interested, please submit your photograph and the name in which you’d like to have appear on the blog to: Alicealgood@gmail.com
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