Looking down
At my hands
Wonder were
the time has gone
It seemed like yesterday
These two hands
Were small and helpless
A baby’s hands
I will never forget
When these two hands
Were learning to write
A little girl’s hands
I will always remember
When these two hands
Grasped hold of another
A wife’s hands
Memories that will endure
With these two hands
That held my children
A mothers hands
The night, this cool and breezy night,
While in the vast unclouded sky
Stars stand lonely vigils, bright
The sea, the sea which rushes gently to the shore,
Reflects the starry light
Into the coral’s distant roar
The wind, this wind that softly stirs the trees,
Blows soundless ’cross the sand
On its journey o’re the seas
The sand, the sand which softly sinks beneath my feet,
Lies damp twixt quiet waves
And a silent jungle, deep
One speck on a solitary hill, standing
Outlined against the green, watching
Flowered plains stretching, empty
While birds swoop, flashing
A sudden blot of red, soaking
Into trampled mud, churning
Hooves grinding fragile petals
Swaying peacefully in the breeze, catching
Wisps of hair on a solitary hill, above
Distant eyes, staring, dimly down
Into rocky glades, stones sharp as swords
Cutting, shattering against metal, hanging
Suspended among screams, mud churned with red
Can you see the hunger written on the faces of the people?
They are mute.
They cannot see themselves,
And no one breaks the code of silence.
Let the dead bones lie in their graves.
The gettysburgs, the teaparties in boston, the morning stroll of
the Blacks to lincoln’s shrine—they are over.
Let dead men lie.
“No, no do not wipe away the tears.
We should never have shed them.
We have so much—big houses, sturdy jobs, and families—
Let dead dreams lie.
Do not awaken them.
Do not break the silence.”
Ten days we were together
Nine times I held your hand
Eight times you said “I love you”, while
Seven times we danced
Six years had found me searching, while
Five I couldn’t understand
Four times I found you wandering
Three times I called you back
Two days you left me waiting, while
One night faded into black
It is amazing how our memories are so vivid when triggered by the sight of a forgotten treasure from our past. A long time has passed since I thought of my old bin of blocks. The sight of them jolts my mind; I am overwhelmed. As I pick up the toys strewn across my nephew’s bedroom, I find myself looking back……
A glimpse of my old friend
Brings a flood of memories;
Of laughter and sorrow,
Of hymns and symphonies.
Mem’ries of the whole new world
She opened up to me.
Full of magic and music,
A world that is carefree.
I remember the songs
With which she eased my pain.
Her quiet, steady voice
Was like Spring’s healing rain.
A true and loyal friend,
She held my secrets dear
Of what the future held
And the reason for my tears.
This barn is twenty-five years old and for three years I have been pretending it belongs to me. This barn is where I spend sixty hours of every week, the place to which I devote all of my time and energy in exchange for the shelter of my beloved horses. This barn holds twelve horses and half of them have left hoofprints in my heart.
I think life is a new, strange, different, deeper thing...since the last time I wrote anything for you. I've lived a lot, these last few months; in some ways, it feels like I've lived more since the end of last year than since the beginning of my life.