Monday, November 4, 2013


the day the moon swallowed the sun
and the clocks went back
the light
was amber when I woke

there was mist and rainbow

I wonder if I’ve paid enough attention to the dead
are their stories in me
had I listened close 
before they began their journey 
on the back of the moon
with a plan to have the sun

for breakfast

I make toast and tea
think of my immigrant father
and the war trauma he carried in his young heart
when he left
think of  the women
and so many more
enduring great lake winters
with Baltic sea air in their lungs
factories, shops and children bearing
lithuanian memories
with nursing home endings

closing their eyes and seeing the amber light
resin that endures and adorns

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

beautiful reflection.