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Author Archives: cpope

Journal 6

The first line of each stanza must include a color. Downtown Fredericksburg The red brick walls speak to me,                                                                         […] Continue reading »

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Journal 5

It was winter.                                                                                                         […] Continue reading »

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Journal 4

Version 1: The cows stand under the trees in the wet grass, lifting their necks to pull leaves down. We slow down the truck, pull over to the side of the road to watch them. How graceful they look, how unlike themselves. We get out and lean on the fence. The cows don’t seem to […] Continue reading »

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Journal 4

Version 1: The cows stand under the trees in the wet grass, lifting their necks to pull leaves down. We slow down the truck, pull over to the side of the road to watch them. How graceful they look, how unlike themselves. We get out and lean on the fence. The cows don’t seem to […] Continue reading »

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Journal 3

Summer (unified similes) The sweet sensation of flying, zooming down the streets of my neighborhood.  Zipping fast enough, my bike stirring the humid August air. Crash! The terrible bush pounced out in front of me like a predator attacking. Gravel digging into my knees like moles burying into the ground, the callus sun unmoved by […] Continue reading »

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The Next Thing Always Belongs

Teachers   Sitting across from Mrs. Nelson, her nasal tone reminiscing last year’s escapades. My body crashing into the doorframe, twenty-nine pairs of mocking eyes.   The influence of teachers inspires the next generation. Her hands molded my mind like soft putty.   Bone crunching, the way she slams a door. Who knew an object […] Continue reading »

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