Her pink lace nighties littered
the floor, strewn by hands
that touched all of hertreasures, gone missing
when she closed the doorI turned a drawer upright
avoided the splinter as it slid
in the tracks, a single dropsplattered on the wood
shelf, when she said
I wasn’t going to cry
Photo by Nossirom
this one gave me shivers.
Oh, Lyla, this is poignant stuff. And so beautifully expressed.
(You have no idea how you’ve made my day!!
These few words put me right there in the room. Right there in her heart. In yours. God has called you to such a place for such a time. Powerful–and poignant as Laura said.
I’m in for this journey. Though I’m still in for the real thing, too.
Look at you! When did this happen? I couldn’t be happier seeing you in this new place (love the new digs) and reading words unfold like clothes in a child-sacked laundry basket. (that’s me, trying feebly to be literary).
Love you. Love this!
Well, well, well…I can see we’re all in for quite the trip here, Lyla. A.Ma.Zing. Yes, ma’am, the floodgates have been opened. Maybe you could teach me?
at times I’ve thought i should write more words
that maybe there’s something blocking my flow
to explain, give detail that abounds in, well … details
but for me to process
i keep finding less is more
I’m happy for you Lyla… and proud… I feel gifted by receiving the precious gift and power of your fewer words.
Isn’t that a lot of it right there, Pat? Writing lines, I don’t have to say it all. And with this subject, I can’t.
And yet, you can get the picture.
(Thank you. Your words here mean more than you might know.)