Memories Of a time Little Golden Book moments Tossed high Into the branches of a backyard cherry tree If only to imagine pink snow in April ~ Snow was pink, where we once lived.
Tears slip behind doors. Slammed. Sorrow’s shelter from Storm. Love reigns behind doors. Quiet, stone still. A soft head against a shoulder. Doors close. Locked. Listen as our footsteps flee. Doors whisper, tell the stories of a life. I’ve fallen hard for old doors. Chippy paint, cracked glass, hand-hewned architecture . Bespoke. ~ A Sunday Moment • Photographed by my sister x
I remember you. A father and my rock “Let’s go,” you said. Long car rides, the songs we sang off-key. Rebels in the wind I remember. I remember you. Reaching for the dial Slam up the volume Me. Switching the station to Jim Morrison’s lyrics Rebels in the wind I remember. I remember you. The rock candy laughter Saturdays The ocean we … Read More I Remember
Overhead, dark clouds rip open. Raindrops slip from the car’s windowpane; I watch them disappear. The clouds cover the sky like gauze, softening a wound. Loss festers. Heaven’s tears spill forth as Angels witness an aching sadness that can only be found on earth. Today I uncrate grief. Yes, I miss you; wish you here, returned to earth. It is true. Sadness shadows me … Read More For You
My grandfather had a green- thumb and passed it on. Growing up, we always had a beautiful garden filled with hedgerows, sweet jasmine, pansies, Cherry Blossom trees, and Japanese Maples. At night we sat outside and talked under a blanket of stars. One of our homes had a small pond complete with painted turtles (they always slipped out and escaped the yard). A Brave … Read More Memories
When I recall my father, it is always winter. I’m not sure why that is. Upon calling forth memory, I visualize his smiling face, then, a postcard-screened scene of the perfect winter appears. Snow, blanketing the ground. Frosty shades of blue, the softness of the scene, like peering through mohair. Sunlight streams through the dancing flakes of snow. Evergreens dusted, branches bending, sunlight streaming … Read More It Is Always Winter