The Tracks

Watching the past pass away with its lights and shadows, I leave it all behind. I leave them all behind. Down these tracks, a new life waits.

pexels-photo-trainwindow
– Written for Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales #15. Photo prompt. CC 140. Photo from Pexels.com.

1476833681824

On a Park Bench in the Spring

Remember when we met in spring,
Everything began anew.
We watched the flowers bloom.

Along with the flowers, we felt our love bloom.
The rain cleansed our pasts in spring.
We welcomed this season anew.

We learned to live anew.
Petals and our hearts opened in bloom.
We will always have that spring.

We sat on that bench again in spring admiring each other anew, hoping to bloom.

cornoyer_early_spring_in_central_park
Early spring in Central Park by Cornoyer

– Written for Jane Dougherty Writes, Poetry challenge #47: Spring in the park. Image prompt and “Spring in the park.” Poetry form Tritina. Painting by Cornoyer.

Passed That

The past stays in the past.
Some wish they could get there fast
To undo some things they’ve done,
Maybe have a bit more fun
And prolong some things that didn’t last.


– Written for Limerick Challenge Week 29. Prompt was “time travel.” Photo by JD.

My Grandparents, My Anchors

They weren’t perfect. They were human.

old pic of mamaw and papaw
Joyce & James Barrow circa 1950’s

Both transplants from different states, they met and married in Florida, and started a family.

She was amazingly talented and intelligent and learned a lot through life experiences. He was talented and resourceful and had spent some time in the Army.

They had three children and four grandchildren. She taught them strength and compassion.

They held private concerts in the grandkids’ room, where they would sing and play guitar and mesmerize them.

They spoiled the grandkids while trying to instill manners and appreciation.

They weren’t perfect. They were human.

They passed away within 6 months of one another, leaving a canyon of memories where their light had once been.

For better or worse, they made me who I am. I miss them and wish they could see the woman I have become; maybe they can from wherever they are.

– This entry was compiled for Hugh’s Weekly Photo Challenge: Week 27 – Vintage. WC 133.