Writer. Feminist. Historian. Person.
muttering murmurs
the doors open on the right
light and sound distort
in the moment time stands still
static possibility
I ride the train a lot, so my mind went in many directions but the empty seats strongly evoked the ideas of loss and hope–that liminal moment of unknown. Thanks for the inspiration to Reena’s Xploration Challenge
No longer, not yet
As my broken heart beats on
Still, fragmented, yet
Merril at https://dversepoets.com/2023/08/15/poetics-august-transitions/ has asked us to consider a transitional time in our lives. Still struggling with a recent loss, I’m in the midst of figuring out how to heal. Writing helps, when I let it.
just for a moment
yesterday lives in color
then grief recalls time
Image credit; Himesh Mehta @ Pexels
I’m sure that “What I See” is deeply connected to my own recent loss (of my dad) but (to me) she looks so unbearably sad.
Visit Sadje’s What Do You See? and tell us what you see.
Some days were better than others. He’d leave the house. Buy groceries. Walk in the park. Feed the squirrels. Try to go on without her.
But most days were bad. On those days he’d stay in bed. Thinking only of her. Hurting as badly as he had that first day without her.
And then there was today. The anniversary of that terrible day. 365 days of pain. And planning. Now it was time.
He imagined them. Walking hand-in-hand on the boardwalk. Oblivious to his pain.
Reaching into his bag, he smiled. Today was going to be a better day.
Photo Prompt © Roger Bultot
I swear this started out as a sweet story but at about word 63, it turned … well, I’ll let y’all be the judge and end it for yourselves. What’s he reaching for?
Thanks, as always, to Rochelle’s Friday Fictioners Challenge for providing inspiration.
Tina Stewart Brakebill 