The Right Gift #writephoto

shadows

The Right Gift (119 Words)

No, not flowers. He liked flowers, but it didn’t seem right.

She sat, looking down at the quiet ground that was so unlike him. Davy had never been quiet. He had never stood still. Even in sleep, he was always tossing and stealing the blankets for himself. Peg’s mouth crooked in a smile. Darn it, she missed him.

But he wasn’t here.

Continue reading

Advertisements

What Fire Left

spf-june-3-2018-1-of-1

What Fire Left (155 Words)

It was gone. A lifetime of memories was in the space of one day nothing more than burned and discolored bareness. It was hard, looking at what was left of the building, to believe that it had ever been a home at all.

Continue reading

Marble Garden #writephoto

remains

Marble Garden (822 Words)

A silent, solemn figure to steal through the graves, his long cloak trailing in ebon folds as if he hurried night into the evening’s blue mists. Past the disconnected lines of wooden crosses he walked, mindless of the old and pausing in a moment’s fixed grief at the newer. His glance swept the cracked marble of aging stones but never for a moment did his purpose falter, and his direct progress led him straight to the gnarled cherry, shedding vibrant color in sharp spring wind.

Continue reading

Going for a Walk

One of Wallie and my favorite poems.

Dreams from a Pilgrimage

I will see cherry blossoms today
dancing lightly in the April breeze
crenellated puffs of softest pink
jostling, welcoming, anticipating
meetings under the arch-browed branches:

where petals scamper round the feet
of once deplete, now wealthy hearts surfeit
with delight not won, but given
in sweet abandon from the Lord of heaven:

and sweet angel, I will think of you.

View original post