I Never Gave Her a Name

I’m a week late posting this piece in the gem of a journal that is Microfiction Monday Magazine. The micro form transforms one’s writing heart into a fluid and raw state. For me, writing micros frees my mind from the baggage it so often carries while trying to impress. I hope you stop by Microfiction Monday. And while you’re there, check out all the marvelous micros; Edition 116 boasts beautiful pieces by David Hensen and G.J. Williams!

Thank you, Microfiction Monday, for publishing and sharing I Never Gave Her a Name; sometimes words take me back to a doll-less time in my childhood.


micro monday

(image or highlighted text will transport you to Microfiction Monday Magazine)

’22 Year of the Benevolent Ballerina

2022 dances in as a benevolent ballerina in a shining tutu (2 2)
Her flowing muslin calms our hearts, her beautiful resilience eases our minds
With universal joy, our eyes gaze upon her, bitterness and worries of the past forgotten
What a lovely thought to embrace…

Through all that remains ahead for us (and it is quite heavy), may we resolve to pull through together
I wish you all peace, love, kindness, and good health in 2022 – Year of the Benevolent Ballerina

dancer

Our Precious Topper

This precious angel was once lovingly battled over by six Roselli children expressly for the honor of placing her atop the Christmas tree each year.

Every Christmas since, our dear little angel, freed from her topper duties, gallops into our hearts — hearts a bit saddened for the loss of one so joyful.

Though these days shadows last a bit longer, our hearts remain ever grateful in the light of Millie’s memory — the precious angel atop our hearts.

Missing you and your beautiful voice this Christmas season.🌟

A peaceful, warm, and safe Christmas to all🌲

angel

Halo, How Are You?

Been awhile since I’ve been here. I do so hope you and those in your circles, near and far, are doing well. ❤️

My family and I have been busy settling into our new, upstate New York, home built in 1930. I often think about the families who’ve passed through a place built during the Great Depression. They survived. I believe we will too. Peace, kindness, and love are out there in the world…
sainted flapper

With peace and love for the holidays🌟
AnnMarie

I painted this gal in 2016, seems so much farther back…

Happy Fourth!

She’d move along in measured paces wearing sensible shoes
from down the street by the park where Washington met Lafayette,
and the giant oak we’d worship and play kickball beneath

Each weeknight, the umber circle on her right shin commuted
from a city bus to the front door of my suburban childhood home
Sometimes I’d watch the moving bullseye grow from a dark dime to a darker quarter

Grandma and her mole would always arrive on time for supper.
And after working a full day at her paper factory job, she’d retire to her bedroom,
watch Perry Mason, smoke Parliaments and knit something for somebody

But every July 4th, after the dinner dishes were cleared away,
we’d enjoy the illuminated night sky, we’d eat red, white and blue cake,
and we’d sing Happy Birthday to Grandma

An oldie but goodie🌹 (from left to right) my grandmother, my mom, my uncle

HAPPY FOURTH!
Happy Birthday, Grandma ❤️