Monday, February 16, 2015

My first short story of, well, a long long time.

The rock fell onto the cold, dusty floor, trembling layers of paneled walls and oak floors, finally ending with a dull thud against concrete, four floors below. I stood, trembling as well, waiting for the angry voices, threatening shouts and hoarse footsteps deafening the rocks clumsy descent … nothing.

Bored of waiting, I wandered out into the hallway, stopping at the window seat across from the banister curving down through acres of wood. Glancing briefly at the car in the drive, I slowly raised my eyes to encompass the forest surrounding the glade cradling a long curving drive and disappearing into a sea of cypress, oak and pine. 

“Where did you go?”

At first it had been exciting, the angry voices, the slamming doors. The “never coming back,” echoing through the early winter air, first warmed and then chilled my soul. They couldn’t mean it. After all, I belonged to them, bone to bone, inseparable … or so I thought. Maybe not.

I slumped down on the dusty seat, glaring at the wind inspired particles now drifting in the air. They tried to leave, they really did, dragging suitcases dripping arms and legs of cashmere and cotton, thrown hurriedly in the trunk, slammed shut. Car doors slammed, less enthusiastically and then the errrr cough ... errrr cough ... errrrrr of a misfiring engine. Silence.

I pushed up on my elbows and stared again, remembering. Angry voices, escalated and I felt their shattering stares through the glass, shards piercing my soul. A moment later, stomping away from the immobile car, the blaming, complaining dimmed in the distance as they stomped, then strode and finally seeped away down the drive into the forest; the echoes, “it’s only a mile or two, come on.” fading into their distance and finally disappearing altogether.

It had been four days. They had not returned.

Alone again … well I was well accustomed to being alone, but the loneliness, that was interminable. Fading through the hall, gliding down the stairs, I picked at remnants of white sheets tucked into alcoves, ready to spring forth at a moments notice, rocks stacked in dim corners that could echo throughout the house their agenda as hidden as their location, maybe I had overdone it a bit … but it had been so long. They seemed to enjoy the tension of not knowing, the fear … at first.

I stepped away from the house, the front door hissing behind me, "don’t go too far".

"As if I can," I hissed back, invisible footprints marking my progress.

Stepping into the clearing I stared at the car, encouraged the engine into life and ordered it into the pond at the back of the house … it was getting full. At least the car wasn't afraid of my kind ... I guess 'ghost' was close enough. I felt my skin sizzle against the closeness of the trees, turned and glided back into my sanctuary … my safe, secure, sanctuary.

Alone, lonely, again.

Thursday, February 12, 2015

the silence within

loudly it proclaims
 my humanity
softly it whispers
 my mortality
shouting it proclaims
 my indignity
quietly it whispers
 my identity
but when I fill it with
the business of noise
I cannot hear who I am
at all

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Alaska Gold
out of the mists of time
they run
rumbling and roaring
their time has come
come to get treasure
and riches to spare
come to dig gold
from the mountains
so rare

into the mists of time
they return
wounded and weary
they're playing no tune
the mountain gives nothing
but sorrow and pain
return to their homes
to live once again
into the mists
where once they did start
their tears wash the mountains
who watch them depart
Who you are
you are you ...
no matter what the outside looks like ...
you are still you ...
no matter what you do ...
you are still you ...
no matter what anyone thinks ...
you are still you ...
no matter your age ...
you are still you ...
no matter who likes you, who doesn't ...
you are still you

you are still that little girl who ran around for hours
without getting tired,
who made I Love You's for Valentine's Day,
who kissed cards for Mothers Day and Fathers Day ...
you are still that young woman
who wondered what her life would be,
that grown woman
who walked with a snap in her step,
that woman who age crept up on,
age that stole youth,
and health, days and years ...
and when this puny planet
returns to cosmic dust ...
you will still be you
because love never fails
and I love

Thursday, May 29, 2014

Muse Muse where are you
sittin by a stream
laying by a tree
strolling by me

October in Vermont 2007

October in Vermont 2007