she was everywhere and she was nowhere
“She suffered years of domestic abuse and then one day in her 60’s decided to walk the entire Appalachian Trail.”
“If you have any icing left over, you did it wrong.”
“These things come in threes.”
“They had so little, but gave us so much.”
“It always snows in April.”
dreams float free from their daytime cages,
and melt into the evening skies
I am a traveler swimming in strange and mystic waters.
I am a trader searching for peaceful horizons
and hospitable harbors.
I am a drifter floating and following yellowed and aging maps.
I am a Peter Pan pirate of sweet and guazy dreams.
I am the captain of my own destiny.
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.
renegade watercolor shades
of blues and pinks–
lilacs in the sky,
violets on the horizon–
a suggestion of moons,
the taste of soft pink summer plums
waiting to be savored
There are times when it is wise to stop so that others may go.