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Travel Nocturn

In my place between wake and slumber exists a platform, a waiting spot for the dream train. Weathered wood planks roughened by time and elements joined by rust crusted square spikes. Wind whispering, stars shining, no covering in sight. Ancient iron tracks stretch from horizon to beyond beckoning the dream train. On a night my mind’s self reposes there, labors, worries, and joys jumbled in thought until I board the dream train.

Heart to Paper

click the pencil advance the lead make the marks regret the words sigh erase the choices wipe the remains click the pencil advance the lead again and again and again make the marks enjoy the words smile

Grandbabies

Gentle lashes Flashing eyes Ready smile Bubbling laugh Busy hands Lightening feet Quick kisses Mischievous tricks Cherished hugs Curious mind Tender heart Precious soul

A New Life

Spotting my parents in the thousands of faces in the auditorium, I discerned relief rather than pride in their eyes. I winced slightly but tossed my head around in defiance, listening to the strains of “Pomp and Circumstance” I caught a glance of Mrs. Hill, my English teacher. I clutched the coveted paper in my hand a little tighter and suppressed the urge to make a nasty gesture at the old bat. For the last couple of months she had berated me daily by scolding, “You’ll never graduate now that you went and married that boy!” I guess I showed her , I thought as my mind jumped to my secret. At that moment, I was glad for the fullness of the graduation gown even though I had not yet begun to show. If any of my teachers or the principal knew about the life that was growing inside me they would have denied me the diploma I had worked so hard to earn. Two weeks before graduation, my friend Barbara had been called out of class and expelled because the school nurse discovered her pregnancy. ...

Afternoons

In the floor on his belly time yields to fantasy. Childhood envelops universe. Plastic trains become mighty iron horses surging across continents, ferrying masses of tiny soldiers, delivering tinker-toy freight, avoiding disastrous chasms between tile and carpet.

The Mississippi

I meet with her each morn. As she glides beside me I sense her mood. Some dawns she fumes in fog, others she glistens in glee, yet others she tumbles in turmoil. Time alters my days seldom I see her and then my path leads to her again. She greets me with glory, sunlight dances upon her face. Joy to my soul from her ancient waters.