the warm door sweeps across the holiday welcome mat
light spills out the snow-stained windows onto the walkway
it’s cold in the dark
gazing back over her small shoulder
familiar laughter escapes the dried glass seals
happy voices are chimes in the wind
tender images tuck into the deep pockets of her travel coat
the warm door gently closes behind
moonlit bells accompany her slippered feet
she walks above the snow
alone
her thin, petite hands glide into her bulging pockets
caressing the beautiful memories
she slips away into the night
as the walkway disappears
this post was previously published last year for my Aunt Nina (my Godmother and namesake-Ann)
it has been edited quite a bit this evening, I hope for the better this second time around
she would have turned 83 this Saturday and dancing sweetly on her cake
I hope all the folks along the Atlantic coast, especially FL are spared catastrophic damage as Matthew strengthens
AM, I should go back and take a look at the original (I do remember it), just to see how you’ve edited. But really? I don’t need to do that–I can see immediately how you’ve improved the verse, polished it. You know, you really have a knack (no: talent) for editing not only others’ work, but your own work (that’s always very difficult for most writers). You have an uncanny ability to step away and see your work objectively. That’s great.
I have to say, this poem is so tender–of heart, of soul Your Aunt Nina would be so very proud of you. Your art is a beautiful tribute to her.
DS
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I can always count on my memory for not remembering;) so often, when I return to the scene of the crime it’s as if I’m committing it all over again;) -old verse becomes quite new
thanks, DS
I hope Nina likes it too:)
am:)
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Nina will love it, AM. You’re a natural-born writer/editor/artist. 🙂 DS
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🙂
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Does the X mark the spot?
Your words conjure comforting images.
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thank you
much appreciation
am:)
the X was sort of a little ‘peace’ theme thing I had going back then for my graphic pieces
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