Eyes did close

garden 102

 

It was a drawn out breeze

that shook free what was left.

A timid, though unrelenting thing that cast shade and shape

over our faces.

Summoning aged branches to sway.

Aged limbs, that threatened to break when they bent and tilted the light

which we trusted to show us the truth.

Turning foul the friend thought foe

to stand in unforgiving shadow.

Placing heartbreak’s color – raven,

to reign over eyes that once saw rose.

And my eyes did close at the breeze’s soft bidding.

Though closing, not to hide,

they closed to remember.

They chose to remember

the good they’d once seen.

Advertisements

He was the sky

cloud

 

He spoke with his hands

and moved with his heart.

Kept watch by his soul,

and felt in his spirit.

This quiet man known for his eyes,

endlessly dark and gentle.

Eyes that told so much

that words only proved to reiterate their point.

Eyes held up by a curve of laugh lines that also insisted upon smiling.

And he stood stories above my memory of him.

In my memory,

he was the sky.

 

Against a memory

snow

 

Long after night attempted to sculpt itself into his goodbye,

long after those last words had faded – forgotten,

the thought still played softly in the background,

and whispered against the hollow halls of her recollection.

Telling secrets, now grown cold like autumn’s end.

And she shuddered at the chill,

and wrapped her arms a little tighter around her own heart.

Defending it against a memory.

Still…

Virginia 225

Leaning into the idea of you.

Dancing with it.

Twirling, dizzy with the weight of you.

Lost but not yet gone.

Slow dancing.

Slow turning.

Slowed down time – stamped wrong, but so true.

Still true.

Still smitten by the thought that feels so alive it takes me dancing most nights.

Looking back

afternoon 034

 

 

 

He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass doors that held his old record player.

So much of his face had changed, but his eyes were the same.

His favorite song was playing.

It had been their song.

There was something about the way the music played through those old speakers.

The way the static, hiss added to the mood.

Making the song sound even older than it already was.

Giving it breath.

A hollowed sound, deepening the space it took up.

Changing the way the old man stood.

Lightening his weary frame as he remembered back when…

Transported, with eyes closed.

His heart did the dance that his body could no longer muster.

And he loved again like he had in his youth.

The music summoned feelings deep down that he’d given up on.

His thin hand on the speaker, and the other on his chest as he swayed slightly.

Their old song, opening an album of memories within him.

Unlocking the spirit of youth that had not aged a day.