She Came From the Sea…

She came from the sea
Wind in her hair
Salt on the air

The guls mournful cry
Outward she gazed
As the nets swayed

A brilliant palette sets
Wind in her hair
Salt on the air

Authors note: This is inspired by the courageous daughter of a dear friend

Memories of Mom…

A few years ago, I reached the age where I had accumulated more years without my Mother than with her. I lost her when I was a mere 24 not yet old enough to realize how much I was going to need her, nor how much I would end up missing her. At that young age she was still “mom”, you know the “mom” we love but still chafe under as young adults. It isn’t that I took my Mother for granted, I didn’t she taught us that lesson well enough, but I had no idea how much I would miss her and how many times I would need her counsel, her teaching, her understanding, and maybe more than anything those irreplaceable tender moments of a mother’s comfort. Read more ›

The Farm

…My body long since numb from the old John Deere beneath me, the baler hums and thumps behind leaving its squares in a neat row. The sun inches its way toward the tree line and an afternoon breeze has picked up, it carries the sweet smell of cut hay intermingled with the murmurs of the crew tossing bales in the lower fields. My dusty cap wipes a trail across my brow as I watch the dance of maples along the rock wall their broad leaves turning silver backs to me, a forecast of things to come. The dragon flies flit  in and out, teasing, knowing an afternoon storm is coming as time races away… but these are the good days, the days of sun and sweat, hard work and gentle nights, the days before the dark time, before it all went away, before a creeping evil turned all the world grey and stole the magic of the farm…

Authors Note:  I have fond memories of the long days of late summer baling hay on my mother’s horse farm in NE Pennsylvania. She was diagnosed with cancer the winter of my 24th year and passed in the early days of August that next summer – that was many, many years ago, but I can’t pass a freshly baled field without remembering those days on the farm and how much I still miss her…