I try to imagine what this lake looks like in the winter. The stillness and depth of Canadian snows, the bitter wind blowing across the frozen water, all just a distantly whispered memory on this blushing evening in July.
36 inches of solid ice
Tag Archives: canada
Gone
I heard someone once say,
“It’s not as if she’d let herself go,
we just don’t understand why he left.”
I wonder where she would have
gone if she’d really let herself go.
Imprint
How many pink sunsets do we carry within us?
Lost memories, trinkets of conversations stored within
cotton candy clouds in my mind. Little shards of flat
Ohio landscapes, slices of Canadian summers, thoughts
filed away and kept safe; imprinted on the past
like a sticky carnival hand stamp.
Goodbye
As my children walked toward the first day of school,
I whispered goodbye to summer.
Things I love II (an incomplete list)
morning toast
the words “archery” and “acrid”
black cherries
summer storm clouds
old photographs
the sound of crows
purple roses
the time — 11:11
wooden boxes
postcards
silver bracelets
long good-byes
campfires
dreams of flying
used book stores
windy nights
chocolate
an old pair of jeans
pencil cases
helvetica and garamond
spanishwoods 