A slight breeze
Moves the sage
Outside my window
The sun shines brightly
Moves the sage
Outside my window
The sun shines brightly
In a forever light-blue sky
The child you were
Stands shyly in the shadows
Of the portal
Shading your eyes
From the brightness
Of the morning sun
Eggs piled high
The child you were
Stands shyly in the shadows
Of the portal
Shading your eyes
From the brightness
Of the morning sun
Eggs piled high
On Granma’s best
Blue and white china plate
The waves roll in
One by one
Blue and white china plate
The waves roll in
One by one
Misty morning at the beach
The child attentive
Runs from the spray
As each wave hits the shore
The child attentive
Runs from the spray
As each wave hits the shore
Like a movie
It plays in my head
The corn roasting on an open fire
People gather, sing songs
It plays in my head
The corn roasting on an open fire
People gather, sing songs
End of the day
Long drive home
Only to find
You are no longer there
Long drive home
Only to find
You are no longer there
October 28, 2018
Wordle 375:
Wordle 375:
11 comments:
Sometimes memories are so achingly real...and then we find that they aren't...
It is a gift to revisit the memories stored in the attic of our brains. Be well, my friend!
Ah, those closing lines ping the heart.......so bittersweet the memories. This is beautiful, my friend.
Simply Beautiful.
ZQ
Oh those memories are wonderful....but the ending is sad. We must keep the memories in our heart though and never let go of them. Blessings, my friend.
Memories can hurt so much can't they? However there is no reason why their memory can't be always in your mind. At family gatherings we are happy to recall my deceased wife (their mother and grandmother) in the conversation.
so very bittersweet - memories have a way of creeping up and into us - you said that so beautifully here
Dear Bev, I tried to comment to your post, but it wouldn't let me? Said my cookies were disabled, I checked they are not. Thanks for your comment.
It's amazing how observing nature makes our minds travel to past times. Sometimes the thoughts are of happy times, sometime the thoughts are about our grief. I enjoyed reading this Annell. Thank you for the pictures. I love Taos.
Thank you Gina, I tried to find your poem, without success.
Thank you Myrna, because you also love Taos. I am thinking memories aren't always first in line, but they do seem just under the surface. We have but to scratch just a little and there they are...each a fragment of who we are.
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