The Samurai’s Garden by Gail Tsukiyama
candles that smell like apples
chocolate brioche
sleeping with the windows open
Gold Dust by Tori Amos
peppermint tea
long streaks of sun
a room of mannequins
yellow crysanthemums
three butterflies
a canadian dime
artful trivets
warm pumpkin soup
the kindness of strangers
up or down can be arbitrary
there was no one home
woodgrain and holly leaves
the desire to please
misgivings about asking questions
the ability to be intimidated
the need to fill silence with words
a warm, safe bed
good health
smiles and kind words
still waters
hot chocolate
the color blue
camp fires
tranquil thoughts in the early morning
The storm approaches and we retreat.
I keep the windows open until the rain soaks the cabin floor.
An afternoon of smudged and foggy horizons bleeding
into the water, seeping into my soul.
“What happens when you run out
of things to say?” she asked innocently.
The absurdity of the question
rendered me speechless.
spanishwoods 