Rebbecca Hill's Blog
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Jun.17.2013
birch trees
stand like white ghosts
their leaves sway
whispering secrets to the wind
&
A little brown bird swoops in, pecks daintily at the earth, scratching his feathers, not minding my presence one bit.
&
A crow off in the distance staring into the grass, looking for some treat.
The trees...
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Jun.04.2013
I never imagined that I would part with my desk, but then again I hadn't anticipated that there would be two of us living here at the time. It happened so quickly. It was a sign–a sign that I had been asking for, a sign that I was ready for love after having lost...I was prepared to live a solo...
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Jun.03.2013
This weekend was filled with thrift store shopping, garage sale perusing, and a peek into a few antique stores.
I don't usually shop for clothes that often, but when I do shop, I forget how much I really do like clothes. Yet, everyday, when I ready for work, I choose the same few things, pieces...
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May.13.2013
I'm a memory catcher,
catching memories with my pen
as they flit in and out, thump their
wings, live for those few moments.
Living, dying, being reborn.
Wings flit gently in the wind,
carry memories with each flutter,
heart connecting with soul–catch them
while I can, and let them go with the ink...
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May.12.2013
This morning I wanted to post a small something, but I was having technical difficulties and ran out of time.
Yesterday I began spring cleaning and I still want to type up my "A-ha" moment in greater detail in the coming days.
In the meantime, I figured out a work-a-round for sideways photos,...
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May.09.2013
It was an ordinary day. The air smelled of honey, the bees buzzed to and fro. Clyde walked to the cafe with his book bag in hand. He had been working on his collection of essays, and it was his routine to complete all of his writing at Sandy's Sunshine Cafe. He needed to hear the pots and pans...
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May.08.2013
May 8, 2013
5-8-13
13-13
4-4
8
Right now I've allotted myself 15 minutes to get my thoughts out on this page before I must start getting ready. Today is tutoring for about an hour and a half and then off to work.
I wish that I knew more about numerology. I've checked books out from the library, but...
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May.07.2013
When I was a young girl, I was, in a way, my mother's doll. I was an extension of herself–an extension of all of her hopes and dreams; it wasn't always easy for many reasons, for the choices she made in life long before I was born and had to live with, for the anger she held inside and acted out on...
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May.06.2013
"Invitation"
"If you are a dreamer, come in,
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,
A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer...
If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire
For we have some flax-golden tales to spin.
Come in!
Come in!"
From Where the Sidewalk Ends: The Poems and Drawings of Shel...
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Apr.25.2013
An abundance of thoughts are rushing through me, thoughts that I've collected over the weeks, some I've written in my notebooks and devices, some I've yet to pen. I started out this morning with a larger block of time. I ran into technical glitches with my Apple keyboard. I had synched it with the...
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Apr.23.2013
This morning the room fills with music from Santana's Supernatural album. The drums have always been my weakness, especially conga drums, that call up a primal part of my soul; the guitar, horns, and vocals slip in at the right moments to create harmony.
I'm transported to the beach,
around a fire...
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Apr.19.2013
Driving down the road, I peer over at the progress of the new retail building. A man on his hands and knees tends to the soil, where the grass and flowers will be. He has a garden pick in his hand, that I see as he raises it, before bringing it down to the earth.
I was transported in that instant...
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Apr.16.2013
On Sunday I took myself for a hike. My significant other tends to be a night person and I am the early riser. I didn't plan on going on a hike, but suddenly my body was pulling me in that direction. I threw on some clothes, sent a text message to him, so that when he woke, he'd know where I was....
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Apr.12.2013
Yesterday turned out to be a pleasant day. When I got to work, the boss hadn't gotten to the stack of files for me to process. In the past I would have immediately felt the stress stream through my body. I know he's busy trying to wrap up loose ends, so instead I turned to the work I did have to do...
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About Rebbecca
I love to write, to express, to explore. Mostly I journal; and if something moves me, I try to capture it in a poem. I live in the East Bay; enjoy reading, writing, cooking; being in nature; walking; and riding my bike.
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Rebbecca’s Favorite Books
Demian, Siddhartha, The death of Ivan Ilyich, Barrabbas, Being Peace, Writing Down the Bones
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