imagined

there he is again, just at the edge of her consciousness
underneath the reality that she sees
blue eyes
or brown?
he looks away, just enough to catch her attention
not really seeing her but looking out
for her?
for someone?
the bell rings and another walks past
distracting her from the image just outside
the window fogged over and the rain slides down
pools at her feet and runs to the bricks in the centre

 ~the end~

rose coloured paris

the air smelled clean and clear, though the rain was wet and squishy under her feet. by the end of the weekend, her new black boots would be ruined. but she hoped she would have some insight into the wonders of paris, the sights and the sounds.
the wine and the pommes frites, the crepes with nutella, all of it would become part of her memory of paris. her visits to the shiny city were a decade apart and the events never overlapped. croissants and hot tea, hot chocolate and parisienne crusty bread along the seine. riding the elevator to la tour eiffel, and walking up the side of montmartre.
the engagement, the wedding, the movies, the laundromat. more wine and cheese. round pillows, old black and white movies in french.



~the end~

lit up

the view from the edge of the bridgewalk into the city was wondrous. she never tired of the lights glinting in the evening light. the busy-ness of the city excited her. the scents and sounds, they drew her in. this city, her city, it had enthralled her for years. 
from a time in her youth, she longed to visit. when she did. she loved it so much she moved her whole life there. she became part of the city then, but then she'd had to move away. and she missed it, longed for it again.
years later, she visited once more, it wasn't quite the same feeling. a fleeting trip through the city, a few key sights with a friend. she wanted to immerse herself there again. but she had other commitments, a life elsewhere, responsibilities. 
then again, some years passed and she visited again, this time for a longer period. not in the city, but living within access of the city. she visited a few times, not quite a part of it, but within a suburb. she loved it. she wanted to spend more time in her city again. but again, the responsibilities, even though they were with her, called to her, kept her from totally absorbing the city.
and so she left again, saddened by her departure and longing for one more outing in the city she loved. she returned the following year, for a few days this time. on her way to a new city. another city filled with friendly sights and friendly faces. 
but still, her city calls to her. she knows routes and street names. she recognises buildings and monuments. she revels in stories from her city. she surrounds herself with memories of her city.
and she will return!


~the end~

picture it

"do you remember me," his blue eyes implored her.
"well, yes i do," she sniffed a laugh and wondered why he thought she wouldn't.
"i was there too, and it was quite memorable," she thought. she wanted to say that aloud. but of course she wouldn't. she wasn't that sure how to proceed with him. he was still looking at her, as though he wanted to say something more. but maybe she was supposed to say something more. she just wasn't sure.
she longed to say to him, "take me to that room again, make me feel that way again. talk to me and then tell me more, but don't tell me about her, i just can't bear to hear it," but of course she wouldn't.
not yet.

  ~the end~

renderings

she gazes out the window. the sun's brightness reflects and she squints to see better. the hustle and bustle of the morning pass her. the passersby ignore her and one another. a youngish man carrying a bunch of flowers drifts past her. she wonders who the recipient of the flowers will be -- his mother, his girlfriend, wife, lover, teacher, boss or maybe his grandmother. she thinks hazily of her grandmother, who always admired flowers but never wanted to keep any that were given to her in a vase. she wonders why some people are more willing to accept gifts while others push them away as frivolous or unnecessary. her mother once scoffed at a handmade gift. she recently found the small red painted heart and although her mother kept it, she remembered the slight frown of distain at its gifting. she hopes she won't be like that with her children. she strives to improve upon the seeds of errors she recalls from her childhood. she thinks herself stranded at times, wandering and wondering how things will turn out. will that heart be torn and broken or passed along to someone else?

 ~the end~

within

inside my head the noises & sounds make sense
sometimes
conversations repeat & reverberate
changing themselves to less reality
and more fiction
rewritten it makes more sense
to hear the phrases
thesaurus items words unknown meanings
feelings expressed with the change
charge
intonation body face language
she said he said they said
fake feelings honesty
forgotten hidden words backstabbing
it whips and whirs and pleads its way
to the surface
bubbling tripping over the thoughts
then remain unspoken
unexpressed 
close my eyes
the thoughts slip
into dreams of family
friends
whispers of the past
future
present imagined
again
lost in the night.



~the end~

the entry

the heavy iron gate squealed as it swung open. as she stepped from the gleaming sunlight, the dark shadow of the house fell across her feet and then her body. she walked slowly, deliberately up to the door willing herself forward. she stopped quickly before the old door, knowing the feel of the wood on her fingertips from memory. she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and pushed the door open wide. it creaked under the weight of the wood and its age. she expected the air inside to feel dank and gloomy but instead it was scented with flowers and clean.




~the end~

nature

the lights shimmer as the snow flurries to the grass
the need for you to take my hand is overwhelming
you have my heart and will always keep it
but sometimes the best words are left unsaid
~the end~

snowy winter swirling flakes winter air bright sunshine cold hands warm cocoa wet mittens gloppy boots snowman snowangel snowball sled boots plow shovel iced trees

~the end~

this is real life

she sees herself differently lately, she peers in the mirror and the reflection peeking back at her is not her own. she sees a stranger, full of anger, spite and vengeance. it is not her own self. it is a shadow of herself. not who she wants to be. not who she sees herself being. but this other person who is unknown to the rest of her life. suddenly, this evil twin sneaks out and wrecks her happier life for those days or weeks, sometimes a whole month. she shushes her and stuffs her full of herbs and minerals and caffeine and sometimes that quiets the monster, but the twin sneaks out again. rears her head and roars.
and she does not like it.
not at all!
 ~the end~

upside down and inside out always cleaning running rushing
glasgow cottages prose reading sunshine hot pink

~the end~