the silence shifts
elbows
breath
hips
to deference
worry accommodated
in the spaces
between fingers
embraces
lies
she shivers
pulls at tangled comfort
skeined memory
abraded voice
careworn reassurance
needled breeze of disdain
how
when
where
to what degree
withins dumped to make a room
for absence
long accomplished
now noticed
she sits small with truth
pleads invisibly
aren’t we all delivered into lives we won’t finish
her own unknown ending
a turning of the page
Wonderful. More spaces we can fill with our own skeined memories, while sitting small. And pleading for invisibility.
To which I will just say … you make me smile, Jan.
Thank you.
Feels sad, a sense of real unending loss.
Always painterly with words.
Sad with a sense of unending loss.
That.
With each turn of page. The ending shifts. Ever unknown.
And so … another year.
Happy New Year’s Eve, Renee.
Me
Makes me miss my brother even more. So many endings we will never know. Cut short in the middle of his story.
Hugs to you, here in the middle of things and story.