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A Mother's Nomad: Trail of Poetry
A Mother's Nomad: Trail of Poetry
A Mother's Nomad: Trail of Poetry
Ebook62 pages16 minutes

A Mother's Nomad: Trail of Poetry

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A year ago, Audrey Hug moved across the country from her rural Ohio community to Seattle. Soon she was inspired by the serene surroundings of the west coast and the thrill of coming into adulthood. In A Mother's Nomad, she has compiled her poems in a chronological order, so that the reader can go along with her on her nomadic journey. <

LanguageEnglish
PublisherAudrey Hug
Release dateJun 1, 2021
ISBN9781087967806
A Mother's Nomad: Trail of Poetry
Author

Audrey Hug

Dear Reader, When I was young, my mother called me a nomad. She saw adventure in my future and a hunger in my eyes. Years later, I set about this foreseen journey. Take ahold of my hand in this book of poetry, A Mother's Nomad and come along this experience. A fresh trail. Audrey Hug

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    Book preview

    A Mother's Nomad - Audrey Hug

    A Mother's Nomad

    Trail of Poetry

    Audrey Hug

    Audrey Hug

    10/25/19

    I have to get out of here,

    but my feet stay planted

    to the roots of the earth below.

    The vines hold onto my bones,

    as if without me

    they will never grow

    high enough to reach the sun.

    I have no way to reach the light,

    with my skin held in the darkness.

    No way to grow high enough

    for the wind to catch me

    and take me to tomorrow.

    11/8/19

    I touch my lips

    to the flames of the fire.

    Trying to remember

    the feeling of your tongue

    and how it burned my lips.

    I dip my fingers

    deep inside of me,

    to fill myself with honey.

    Trying to touch my broken heart,

    but only reaching the hollowness

    you left inside of me.

    11/17/19

    Clothes that hung too loose

    on my body,

    picked out by my mother.

    The day a bumble bee

    landed on my smooth elbow

    and kissed me,

    I cried to my father.

    My feet barely reaching

    the loose gravel

    as I flew through the air.

    Back and forth,

    back and forth.

    Knowing that the creaking chains

    will never let me go.

    A backseat rider

    always sitting between

    two shoulders to lean on

    as I drift asleep after

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