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.
Tag Archives: canada
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.
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.
As my children walked toward the first day of school,
I whispered goodbye to summer.
Things I love II (an incomplete list)
the words “archery” and “acrid”
summer storm clouds
the sound of crows
the time — 11:11
dreams of flying
used book stores
an old pair of jeans
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