Holding tight to her green and arid sierra shawls, she peers over a fresco valley set in leprechaun gold. Like a megalithic Buddha she rests on a boulder's shoulder beneath a thulian sky lit by a gingerline disco sun.
The storm raged on, and our mom settled my sister and I in the back corner on the folding bed with the squeaky springs. My sister began to read the book she had brought downstairs instead of her pillow.
This is just a daydream. Can you pick your phone back once more? Dial my number for the first time in nine years. Say your hello again and I'll say mine sweeter.
The walk seemed endless, but after a while, I found myself back to where I started. It had been a painful walk in the shadows. I thought I could face it with less tears, but I didn't. Although, by any means, I think I had been braver still.
If walls could talk they would be a point of reference to recount the true story of every human tragedy and joy. If walls could talk, they would show more sympathy and understanding because they can listen for a lifetime without leaving.
I never want to be known as a liar. Not at 10 or at 43. For sure not at 43. Because I have learned my lesson. I never want to see that look of disappointment on anyone's face.
On precious occasions, Margaret will share with me stories of her childhood, her teen years and stories from as recent as 40 years ago. She is a walking, talking history lesson. All of her stories have a purpose.
It is said that everyone has a chapter that they don't read out loud. The Why is different for everyone. Why don't they talk about it?
She danced for 10 years and travelled everywhere competing. She decided her dancing days were done and took up the clarinet. Her exposure to music through dance and movement and her ability to sight read music enabled her to learn at twice the pace as everyone else.
At the end You are alone With the memories Full of people Who left you In the darkness Of misery To sail in Their loneliness Alone
Maggie, the white cat Yawns softly Rests on my tummy And sleeps. I stroke her fur. Feeling yellows And rainbows In my ribcage. I smile. The yellows And rainbows. They were blurred images Of memories I haven’t visited In awhile.
Tumatakbo.. Kahit saan man patungo Tumatakbo.. Sa lugar na hindi sigurado Tumatakbo.. Kasabay ng ikot ng mundo Binabalewala ang pagod Tumatakbo.. Baka sakali makalimot kahit paano.. Huminto ako, umupo. Bumuntong hininga at tumingala sa langit.. Nagtatanong sa isip, at kumakapa…