Breadcrumbs in Rapids


©Doug Stanfield 2014

The sound of a train’s horn somewhere in the valley at night

Creamy thighs flashing under a summer dress, cool and molten at the same time

The smell of coffee when the sun is just over the mountain

A robin hatched by the kitchen door, back in the yard, hunting, says ‘hello’

The look of an old door, the view out a window, an old house that shelters me

Fireflies in June that send me back to a more innocent time

Old places, ancient sorrows, hot winds across a desert far away

The way a tree moves under the hand of an invisible thing

The way the sun sometimes comes up like thunder,

The cacophony of voices– lonely, lusting, lost– thinking they’re the only ones

A dream, impossible, conjures up a past life, of running in the jungle to simplicity

Good times, lifelong loves, the joy of hearts connecting,

Seeing the ordinary for the first time, realizing it is extraordinary…..

All….

Breadcrumbs cast out on a moving stream, shining for a moment, floating on…

 

 

Errant Satiety

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HemmingPlay

“The lyfe so short, the craft so long to lerne." --Chaucer

yaskhan

Verba volant, scripta manent !

Upashna

In happiness my words I lack, in grief they overflow.

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