Back behind the borders, I prepare for hostile country. I listen to the birds scream in the trees and I camouflage my face and unpack my war weapons. And I wait. And I wait. And I wait. And while the moments march by like soliders, I accidentally lay down my head and fall asleep under new stars.
What's all this business about French Christmas?
- My name—Noël—has been mispronounced, mislabeled, and mistaken since my parents bestowed it upon me one snowy March afternoon. It wasn't until a friend nicknamed me "French Christmas" that it came into focus. How much would our lives change if we could just see things differently?
Other Peeps Who See It Differently
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February 19, 2013
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I've known those new stars behind hostile borders, literally and figuratively. They are magical. Embrace them, and dream on, beautiful girl.
Posted by: Roxanne | February 20, 2013 at 11:31 AM
Just maybe the new stars are protection from those hostile borders making it safe to cross them (:
Posted by: Dragonfly | February 22, 2013 at 03:17 PM
The stars are always there - no matter what our position is and I find that comforting in so many ways...
Posted by: Tracy Mangold | February 28, 2013 at 06:33 AM