The Road Home

For my friend C. Lennon, thank you for the picture. Sisters, drawn by time, destined by fate and lucky enough to find each other again.

He stands at the end of the road with his hands tucked into his weathered jeans. His icy blue eyes represent all the comfort and love she has ever needed. The smile that stretches across his lips welcomes her home. Beckons of his undying love for her.

He is her destiny, they are fated. She is capable of loving and giving to him like no other. She breathes him and he basks in the beauty of all that she is. The way her hair falls on her shoulders and the scent of her perfume weaken his tough exterior.

He stands and waits as she reaches for him. She is safe and content, she is home.

Wreckage

Some day as I sift through the wreckage of my life…the ashes of what once was

I will come across remnants of our time

The time I thought you may be mine or the time when we thought we would find each other

Maybe my eyes will meet yours across a crowded room or in a market place full of people

Will you wonder like I do?

Will we speak?

Or will it be that quiet knowing that two people who once confided in each other and found some similarities in our existence to share?

The wreckage…whats left

The ashes….fine silk dust

 

*A little something sitting in my draft folder that found its way here

And so it is Friday……

 

 

 

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