A night of dreams
visitations of the past
moments of angst
disappointments relived
I feel the emotions
I've been in the stories

I wandered outside last night
to check on our little world
The fog was misting softly
and round and round it swirled
When I awoke this morning
I heard the wild winds of fall

Cheyenne
not much of a morning girl
She hides away under a blanket
or deep in her clam-shell bed
a gentle soul biding her time
But a warm afternoon

Mom
our relationship
​​​​​​​complicated at times
but mostly just love
Over the years
you got better at saying it

The fog has descended
deep darkness
overrides my soul
the spark is missing
the daydreams
no longer hold any light

NaNoWriMo
the opportunity
to write a novel
with the energy of many

I begin
it's to be a memoir
my first

Here's to the dead *
Honoring those
who have gone before
To my mother
who taught me commitment
and dedication

Those days
when grief wanders in
like the tendrils of fog
in the river valley
slowly engulfing
my heart and mind

Agreements with the self
too many made
not enough kept
leaves one distrustful
backed into a corner

Photo by Jason Williard (1983-2016); used with permission

What if you stopped
all the whirling and dervishing
What if you quit
the worrying and the caretaking
What if you just sat still
allowed in the silence