Scars April 04 2014 Old Memory One cannot travel through life devoid of scars. Each nightly ritual reminds of stories past as you Sluice away at the open wounds of the day. I trace a silver line on the curve of my foot, Conjuring up memories of hurried feet along train tracks, The shortcut to home. Furtively listening for the train whistle That would squeal on us, my brother and I hastened home. In my haste, I stumbled on a broken beer bottle, flung negligently. The gash was deep, he tore his shirt in strips and bound me safe. I hobbled home. We laughed. My brother gave me the shirt off his back. I retrace the silver line fondly. View original postShare this:TwitterFacebookPinterestLike this:Like Loading...
Posted in 2015 Hard Times May 31 2015 Posted on June 5, 2015July 29, 2018 by Nfocus4you Hard times We grow and let go Of all the things, we think we know We hold tight, to the things that are right That keeps us from pacing long into the night Pining for the time when the sun shone bright And in the dawn’s ethereal glow The demons we wrestle fading slowly from sight Faith finds us, reminds us that day follows night. Good times View original postShare this:TwitterFacebookPinterestLike this:Like Loading...
Posted in 2015 Hard Times May 31 2015 Posted on June 1, 2015July 29, 2018 by Nfocus4you Hard times We grow and let go Of all the things, we think we know We hold tight, to the things that are right That keeps us from pacing long into the night Pining for the time when the sun shone bright And in the dawn’s ethereal glow The demons we wrestle fading slowly from sight Faith finds us, reminds us that day follows night. Good times Share this:TwitterFacebookPinterestLike this:Like Loading...