August 17, 2013

in retrospect

Paint peels on the aging

door, its window

a witness, glazed

with images of children

long grown – spindly legged

and summer drunk, swinging

high, their bare

toes straining

to touch

the leaves on nearby trees

as they soar, daring

each other to jump.


4 Responses to “flying”

  1. ‘Spindly legged and summer drunk’ – pure poetry, Pam. (Uh – disregard how contrived that last bit sounds….) 😉

  2. Pam said

    Thanks, Melody. I’ve been going down memory lane since visiting my childhood home.

  3. You are so good at transforming the ordinary to it’s finest moments of clarity. I look forward to reading your blog.

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