3 o'clock on a summer Sunday, the sky is blue and the palm
trees are swaying ever so nicely, waving from a distance

the sun shines brighter, daring us to be tired when it's so 
beautiful out. but the air is thick, and I know there's more to

a day than how it looks outside. wet hair after swimming 
dries stiff and sticky, and bugs swarm around the door,

buzzing through the holes worn into the screen by too many
summer days just like this one. the sandwich from an early

lunch is digested, and the stomach begins to think about 
what's next

I hope you enjoyed this short little piece! It was a fun one to write — it definitely sums up how I feel about the afternoon, especially during summertime. It’s a slump, but there’s some beauty in it nonetheless. Please feel free to share feedback and writing challenges in the comments. Stay safe and healthy out there.

Brooke

I've never met a book I didn't like
because I've always seen the bad with
the good. You taught me how to see
both.

And I don't mark the pages up, 
because I want to rely on my mind
and what I remember. I'll come back
to their yellowed corners again and

again, but I want to see clean, blank
margins. If the page stays unmarked,
we can pretend it's brand new. 
Pretend that we're brand new, at the 

beginnings of our journeys and 
discovering new books.

I hope you enjoyed this piece! I wrote it after thinking about different people’s preferences with their books. As you can guess from this poem, I don’t annotate my books except in school. My mom, however, has her favorite books all marked up with sticky notes and annotations, and I know lots of other people do the same. Please feel free to leave feedback and/or writing challenges in the comments.

Brooke

I'm waiting for you here, in front of our 
favorite place to get sandwiches in the city.

Waiting for you, waiting for someone else 
maybe, waiting for something to come my

way, brush me on the shoulder, whisper
in my ear and sweep me away. Because I

can't (and won't) do it on my own, not today.
Turkey and pickle-- yes, just that and mustard,

please. I'll be waiting as I sit and eat this at a
table for two. I know you'll come eventually.

You're across the street by now, you must be.
I could text you, or call to make sure, but we

decided to be more independent, right? Yes,
no one should be so codependent this early.

I'll keep waiting here, for you.

This was something different to write. It’s not based off of my experiences at all, more so something I just got inspired to write. It’s funny how much I write about relationships considering my lack of experience with them. Please feel free to share feedback and/or writing challenges in the comments. Stay safe and healthy out there.

Brooke

it's seven o'clock and the sun won't set until eight.
we're walking through this park, past the unmowed
grass and i wish we were in a city on the busy sidewalks
instead. don't you ever wish for something bigger?

I wish you didn't think I'm selfish for wanting more.
let's move to the city or the country, anything but this
suburban purgatory. I know you can be yourself anywhere,
but I can't be myself here.

I walk faster than you, trying not to be noticed. your easy
stroll is so different than my fast-walk, almost broken into
a jog. we pass families, kids on bikes, couples having picnics
on ratty beach towels, but we are just here, walking.

I hope you liked this little piece! I get so much inspiration from the nightly walks I go on, and today’s piece is one of those small bouts of inspiration. Please feel free to leave feedback and/or writing challenges in the comments. Stay safe and healthy out there.

Brooke