Scars April 04 2014

Old Memory

nfocus4youblog

Image

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.

 

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Posted in 2015

Hard Times May 31 2015

nfocus4youblog

hugs

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 post

Posted in 2015

Hard Times May 31 2015

hugs

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