Up Among Clouds

How I wish I could have cuddled, all the nuggets and wisdom he gave me through his lifetime--- but some went in the autumn anvil and out the other ear ,and got away somewhere in drifting smoke. Since then, as the years passed by they came as ghosts of remorse, and the time I spent whistling to the birds did not make it easier in the spaces of the heart. I know, know. Most of Dad's promptings built my will and has buttressed my youthful days embracing them in times of doubt--- now, I find myself meandering alone recalling how tender his voice was, a spirit whistling beyond holy ghost's clouds. I Ain't Afraid Of No Ghosts Contest of Casarah Nance 6 June 2016