Ghost Town

The Last of Duncrief

Untold history

languishing into ruin

only ghosts remain

~

Not far from where I live, an old ghost town has almost disappeared back into the realms of history. Only a decrepit house stands where once hope flourished. No mill left to mark settler's dreams. No plaque planted to tell its tale. Just broken glass, battered boards and a hint of what could have been in small-town Ontario...

scars

soft petals tinged by

past breezes, freezes, memories

forever noted

yet beauty amidst the scars

show strength in our tomorrows

Mizpah

11 - the number of years we would have had
what would have happened?
where would we be?
would it have been deserving of steel?
or would we have survived babies?

7 - the number of years you've been gone
so many moments
lost before their time
I've stumbled and reworked them
a life that should have been our prime

3 - the number of years we had
marriage was a gift
one I didn't quite  foresee
you gave me all your everything
your love for eternity

∞
I never will forget
the days when you were mine
I still live them every day
our hearts will always twine

Happy Anniversary my love. We would have been married 11 years today. While our days were stolen early, I'll always celebrate the time I had with you and take joy in your living memory left to me in our children. Blessings to you sweet man.

We've got mizpah...

predictions

walking down the street

April air 

freezes

words 

into wisps

of thought that

break

on naked knees

thrown down

in challenge of the

weather

predictions

that were right 

all along

~snow~
✵

waves

I dwell behind flash-
ing cursors
so as not 
to upset 
my
place,
space in
an uncertain
universe of married
thoughts, ideas,
calisthenics
that rock
egos
fragile
after fractious
flings in the netherworld
of love, restrained and drained

no more