http://slow.writerscafe.org/PadraicGribbons The original writings of author Padraic Gribbons en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776115269 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 There's a small place under the pine trees out back where the rain cannot reach us. If we run through the storm's tears, it is a beautiful place to watch the washed away world through green curtains http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PadraicGribbons/392475/ She had never considered the concept of love before. For her, it was something taken for granted, found in chance encounters on the street, brief looks into the eyes of stranger who weren’t really strangers at all, baring their souls, whole lives revealed in the second before that forever gaze.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PadraicGribbons/392329/ The wind through the trees reminds me of you. Its subtle maneuvering, so gentle, yet the trees bend to its whim. I live now, in a place with no wind. the trees remain still, silent http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PadraicGribbons/392327/ I don't think we have ever met before, but standing across the street on the steps of the library, surely we have known each other forever. Your blue jacket reminds me of what has passed, a blue I cannot recall http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PadraicGribbons/392325/