But, the past is carved in stone.
I think of my boy, shaking it off like dust on the dresser, and smile.
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Written on March 3, 2014 from a prompt on Photo Play Monday at Tweetspeak... Ode to the Home.
Donna Z Falcone |
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I'd spent the day cleaning my son's room - doing more than intended, yet it still seemed not enough. No longer a child, he was quite able to clean his own room, but I told myself it was a gift. As my body protested, I searched for satisfaction, trying to create order out of chaos, trying to reclaim the past - trying to retake what was taken - trying rebuild what Lyme Disease broke.
But, the past is carved in stone. I think of my boy, shaking it off like dust on the dresser, and smile. ------- Written on March 3, 2014 from a prompt on Photo Play Monday at Tweetspeak... Ode to the Home.
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Art and poem by Donna Falcone May 13 2019
It is good To have gone to the beach When you were small And, standing barefooted At the edge of the sea, Closed your eyes Going all off kilter when foaming swirls Washed away the earth beneath your feet - So that some day When the rug is pulled out You’ll remember, In a whisper or a rush, That you survived this once before, And you will, By God, Do it again. This poem and alcohol ink art were done in response to a piece from Callie Fayen over at Tweetspeak Poetry: Writing Prompt: Beach Metaphors.
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