Saturday, July 14, 2012

solemn walk

The empty lined asphalt rolled on for miles ahead of her, vague and immeasurable.  The heat fogged what little memories she had of the road slowly fading behind.  With each step she slowed, squinting to grab a glimpse of anything on the horizon.  Her hands cupped her eyes trying to extinguish the heat and sun.  Long moments passed, her stoic form still on the black sea.  A flick of a glimpse behind not daring to turn. A moment reflection squashed before her eyes blinked away the dripping sweat.  Slumped shoulders pushed her on, desperate for end to be known.

Saturday, July 7, 2012

The small squeaks start at dawn.
A flutter of a dance fills the morning as one life ends to sustain another
Both great tragedy and great liberty

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Soft as from a life once lived

Crumpled, her withered bones show the wear of arthritis.  Each stitch the strips of fabric become art.   The open window kisses her wrinkled cheeks and the smile that dances in her eyes as she remembers her youth for the owners of the small hands working beside her.  With each pause of leading and each stitch she builds her story.  The love of life that was built up from the moment their lives touched.  The years of playful uncertainty that made up their dance of love.  Stories of their first home, children and their adventures.  With each story the panels of a past life pulled together the quilt of fabric.  Hours of work with much vigor sees the end of the sun as the final stitch is pulled.  The tired but hardworking hands slowly gather the blanket close before making the short walk to her room.  The door sat wide open as it had for years now.  The room was clean, with furniture from her previous life and the bed of their later years of life together.  The light of the setting sun pulled its way through the window and kissed the empty bed. Slowly she crossed the floor and floated down to rest her feet.  Small smooth movements, on her side she laid facing the window her arm wrapped tightly across the new quilt.  A watery eye and a quirk of a smile as her free hand danced across the strips of fabric from old men's shirts.  Her eyes fluttered shut and replayed the stories told that day, drifting off to a world that had once been. 

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Sun kissed lashes flutter to greet a new morning
A swift sprite of movement
Blinds back, curtains pulled
A deep breath to meet the chirps of the morn

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Humor in Tragedy

The small squeaks start at dawn.
A flutter of a dance fills the morning as one life ends to sustain another
Both great tragedy and great liberty
The humor and sadness of this delicate nature

Saturday, February 25, 2012

the dance of the unwavering

Eyes shut to breath 
Deep, in and out
Whistles of the water's dance swim around 
The wind brushes soft kisses
All in a moment, home


(can you tell I miss the beach?)

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Lost and Alone



Arthritic hands reach to touch a wrinkled face
A mind lost now broken at reality
The once strong and straight, sit hunched and crippled 
Tears of a sorrow just realized cover the once young face
Brows furrowed at the tear streaked face in the mirror
Mouth opening to comfort, thoughts of hot days
Lost in a world long passed, telling stories of a life unknowingly already passed
Audience capture and unable to leave from it's frame
Brows furrow at the face in the mirror
Lips moving in unison.
Arthritic hands reach to touch a wrinkled face
A mind lost now broken at reality

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Enough is enough



Legs cramp along side a sore butt
Bones ache in the effort to break free
Piles of clothes cover the floor
The windows slowly piled over
No sounds in the dark room
No ears to hear cries for help
Trying to claw to freedom, buried
With each handful removed, ten more seem to take their place
With no excape, arms pinned with the ever growing pile
Each breath gets smaller, shorter till the last gasp fades into silence



Saturday, January 21, 2012

A tear streaked face



Feet race across the slipping and scattering rocks
Falling is not an option; failing is unacceptable
The cold is blistering to the cheek
The wind is chilling to the bone
Miles ago the trail of blood had started
Cracking branches and a taunting laugh not far behind
A small head twitch to hear, eyes wide, face falling at the sight of the hooded figure too near
With a small shake: teeth clenched, eyes bore fire despite shaking hands
With a turn and planted feet, fists clenched trying to hide tremors and deep breaths fought back burning eyes
All that was left was to fight

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Mercy rains

With each creaking footstep he finds his way; closer and closer to freedom.  Ahead there is light, just out of reach.  How to get that extra step?  Quite tones trick his, anxious to get away he breaks away.  His feet pound the old wood floors; with each thump his terror wells.  "Is that me?  Are they close behind?"  Thoughts rattle through as he shakes them away.  No effort left he pulls his last energy to run a little further with a shout for mercy 

Saturday, January 7, 2012

This is not Neverland

My sister is getting married today.
All the last minute scrambles and questioning things that cannot be changed will end in a few short hours.  My sister will be married.  She will forever live with a man, her husband.  Though I have been married for a few years this is still odd to say.  We lived all our lives together, sharing a room from my birth till just past my 18th birthday where we went to college together and lived in a one bedroom apart...
For years we never experienced much without the other present.  Now we grow up... grow apart... grow older...

This is not Neverland.