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Sara Rivera
All journeys begin with a single step.
![Sara Rivera](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Ffirebasestorage.googleapis.com%2Fv0%2Fb%2Fprompt-6db57.appspot.com%2Fo%2Fusers%252Fvxyk20MwwTgDldSbDp2UIENcVIp2%252Fprofile_image_128x128.jpg%3Falt%3Dmedia%26token%3Df482826c-3962-4437-9840-1b48de95299c&w=256&q=75)
Sara Rivera
All journeys begin with a single step.
All journeys begin with a single step.
All journeys begin with a single step.
All that glitters is not gold
The things folks value do not hold
A candle to your warm embrace
The look of bliss on my child’s face
All that shines is not sublime
Some things don’t pass the test of time
New friendships when they’re made too fast
Burn out as quick as airborne ash
Loud ringing bells don’t always ring best
Those who speak longest have much to confess
What’s hot today may be cold to...
Slick city
Cut at angles
Grimy pavement
For mindless shufflers
Clattering mufflers
Gutter garbage
Bulldozing bikers
Reeking sewage
Lights changing green yellow red
Some drivers look dead
Beeping crosswalks
Huge hounds on designer leashes
Road construction
No one talks, empty bottles on beaches
Absent texters like zombies
Hipsters wearing Abercrombies
Child wanders without parent
Lines at St...
It used to be gut wrenching to review each wrong,
The things that people did to me.
The bricks of grief I dragged like heinous medals
“Forgive the jabs, the bullying, the tears—
Let bygones be!”
But some hatchets were too large to bury.
Now I live in perpetual present, my memories wiped clean.
The things I can’t recall about my past—
My empty screen,
Don’t bother me.
My day is now, this moment ...
Just another day in the university library. I have on my desk an open, yellowed manuscript from our Reserve area, a text from the time of Shakespeare. I am carefully analyzing the way the text differs from current versions from the 20th Century. Bibliography is my lowest mark this semester, but it is nevertheless my favourite course.
When I near completion of my task, my iPhone lights up and ...
Staggering on uncertain legs, the tiny fawn explored her surroundings awkwardly. Just hours ago she was safe inside her mother and now she struggled to keep warm, but exploring was her first priority. The smells were overwhelming—each plant was unique, with its own tangy aroma. She wandered until she was fully exhausted. Finally she flopped into a nest of tender grasses, and began to try to lo...
It may seem bizarre to you, when I say that I haven’t ventured beyond my own threshold in many years. Long before the likes of Covid 19, I was convinced (still am) that some kind of pandemic would happen and the only way I would be safe was if I stayed in an environment alone. It no longer worries me, this obsession of mine. I don’t much care for people or what they think of me. This age is ab...
Snort. Kerpluffen. Snort. Sneeeeee. Snort.
My husband’s nose makes many sounds, not every night. But many nights. Especially during the fall, when the air gets dryer, which makes all the gunk in a given nose all the more clumpy. Sometimes I ask him to roll on his side, clear his throat or blow his nose. I ask these things without judgement or malice and he responds almost always by complying...