I must apologize to my regular readers. Since I’ve gone back to work, all my time is filled, and any time I have for writing goes to writing bid proposals; however, I sill subscribe to a lot of you and I read your posts daily. When I received the early release of Brenda’s Wordle for this week
, the words (hips, marrow, crocuses, stillness, massive, secret, flower, grief, window, perhaps, hand, clatter, colors) took off running and I couldn’t stop them. Please pardon the rough draft appearance, I’m working today too, and will not have the time to clean it up.
Wonderful words Brenda.
by Mike Patrick
Slowly she crossed to the window,
sliding her hand along the counter,
using it as a cane.
Those damned hips don’t let her move like she used to;
and the weariness,
steeped in to the very marrow of her bones, didn’t help.
Still, she crossed to the window
as she does every morning.
Outside, the crocuses were still in bloom;
nestled in the flowerbed he made for her,
their purple colors reflected pearls of dew.
She stood unmoving in the stillness of the dawn,
gazing across the massive lawn
at the stone standing under their elm tree.
She still longed for the clatter that woke her
as he made the morning coffee.
Fifteen years he’s been gone,
and she had never been able to keep her grief a secret.
Her friends had tried to get her to move on,
find someone new.
Perhaps she should have,
but one love is enough for anyone;
at least, that is the way she saw it.