Poems from Stephanie Martin
A year in and it still feels fresh
yet smells like last fall's rain.
The grass is cut the same but new
feet treck across the green carpet...
A job is just that, a job.
You do it to make money,
And go back home.
A career is something more.
You do it to make money,
But do not go...
Lightning
Hurdling at warp speed into the unknown,
Time flying by with no place to hold.
Thunder
The sound of electricity skating across...
My family is an apple hanging from a tree branch.
Mother is the stem, connected and uplifting.
Father is the skin, strong and protecting....