I still remember the day
I first put on glasses
Everything looked so crisp and clear
But what I didn’t expect
Was the color
The way it jumped into my vision
The brightness of the clarity Continue reading “I Still Remember”
Tag: Memory
Alma Mater
Today I dawdle along my old familiar paths
Pausing to take in all that has changed
And all that is yet as it used to be
Reaching out, I can almost touch the moments
They whisper out from between the bricks
From cracks in the mortar Continue reading “Alma Mater”
Moments in Memory #2
This is the second of a series of moments from my memory that I plan to post as I hone my descriptive writing skills. Each piece stands alone, a simple vignette without any particular agenda. I hope you enjoy them! Feel free to comment with thoughts or suggestions.
Click to see the first of the series!
#2
A bicycle sped down the pavement, purple frame glinting in the sun. It wove in and out of small clusters of pedestrians, its rider savoring the pine-scented wind as it rushed past her face. Seeing an impossible tangle of people ahead, the rider dismounted without stopping, resting her right foot on the frame before hopping off at a jog. Continue reading “Moments in Memory #2”
Moments in Memory #1
Every once in a while, I experience a moment that sticks – all my senses linger in that place, conspiring to create a memory that I can revisit at will in all its beauty, pain, or peacefulness. As I continue to hone my creative writing skills, I thought these little moments would be fun prompts to practice inviting readers into a scene with me.
This is the first of a series of moments from my memory that I plan to put into writing. Each piece stands alone, a simple vignette without any particular agenda. I hope you enjoy them! Feel free to comment with thoughts or suggestions.
The Sepia Room
Today I sit in my usual place, sipping tea and watching the passers-by.
Within these walls, I live in the safety of the past, everything faded and known. Muffled voices come through the crackle of an old radio, narrating a brown-and-tan world of well rehearsed dance and drama.
As I peer through the sagging window, nothing threatens, nothing surprises. The memorabilia of past joys collect dust on a nearby shelf, comforting reminders of love, belonging, and home. From this vantage point I can participate in the present at a distance (only I must ignore the cracks that might let in a beam of something new).
It is safe, yes, and also numbingly familiar. Continue reading “The Sepia Room”
Friend or Foe?
Time is a master I could do without.
Cold and inexorable,
a thief of what is rightfully his own:
that which I have come to love.
Home and space and constellations of people,
always shifting!
While the stars stay put
for generations to wish on.
Continue reading “Friend or Foe?”
Cold and inexorable,
a thief of what is rightfully his own:
that which I have come to love.
Home and space and constellations of people,
always shifting!
While the stars stay put
for generations to wish on.
Continue reading “Friend or Foe?”
In Pursuit of More 