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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required In some strange blue green aurora borealis kind of way my days are an aged book I smell of leather bindings spine dented I noticed my own fingernails tuck them under Try not to get distracted by vanity The O'clock is ticking down the hall Its a grandfather clock shipped here from my childhood How it got here is a long story The piano is here as well another sordid tale .....trailing ....notes behind it My Mother's jewelry is upstairs hidden away in strange choice places I can't wear it She didn't want me to have it In the kitchen there are cookie molds hanging on the wall If my mother had her say I wouldn't own them either But My mother doesn't have a say anymore Pictures of my parents as Beautiful are on my table as homage They are telling stories But not the truth The floorboards of my 1775 house are from a time when trees grew stronger bigger wider larger ...more dense Many Hurricane's have come through here but it stood fast in time A tornado came through two years ago So many trees fell during that storm that I picked up branches and stuffed them in the back of my car (You wouldn't believe how many trees and tree limbs you can fit in the back of a car) I picked up trees ..branches and leaves and drove them time and time again to the town dump It took eight crews to clear my land after the storm and when we were done.. a vision of a river that I didn't even know was there I watch white birds loft on the wind over the river and trees I am filled with bright hope a Morning Dove made a nest in my window box she has had four sets of babies this summer Eight tiny babies .....on my watch I say "Hi bird" whenever I pass by Just Once I reached out and patted her and she let me! But I won't do it again I fill a small clam shell with water and put it beside her She ruffles her feathers I see her actually lift up her body to show off her eggs sometimes They are a bright white and seem to glow I see pride in her eyes...She looks at me as if to say "Do you see what I have done?!" "These are my children and with them I am very pleased" Just before the day when the babies are forced to leave the nest I hear her cooing and they coo in return The next day I see them under a bush and the next They are gone So I run my hand over the leather binding The clock ticks The piano plays and soon enough the morning dove lays eggs again I watch the sunset Loving how the Sun casts sideways and illuminates the world
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