Author: Simona A. Brinson
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~by Roy Croft I love you,Not only for what you are,But for what I amWhen I am with you. I love youNot only for whatYou have made of yourself,But for whatYou are making of me. I love youFor ignoring the possibilitiesOf the fool in meAnd for laying firm holdOf the possibilities for good. Why do…
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The Wind Remembers The wind remembers the day you were born—your first breath,the first tear you cried,your first heartbreak,your first love,your first skinned knee.It remembers how you learned to standby falling,how laughter arrived before language,how grief taught your name its weight.It followed you through open windows,waited in the hush before goodbyes,pressed its palm against your…
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~ by Elaine Cole Crombie You never knew meyou who knew me so well You who could trace my smileon a pillow or in your mind You who could identify my laughteraround the corner, up the stairs You who could feel my warmthon the coldest nights or hottest daysat your sideor a hundred miles away…
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Memory in the Wind I listen to the wind— faint whispers of yesterday tickle my skin. My memory exhales, memories whirl like windblown leaves. I hear his weathered voice call my name— not Mona, but Muuna. I smell peppermint and cracked leather, his boots worn thin. My nose twitches from the aroma of his spit…
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ELEGY FOR THE BREATHING HORSE Beneath the pallid winter boughsWhere daylight wanes and shivers thin,A sable horse, with lowered brows,Stands cloaked in fog and breath and sin.Its nostrils bloom with ghostly fire,A vapor born of hidden heat,As though the soul, grown cold and tired,Still whispered live through lungs and beat.The leather creaks. The iron waits.The…
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It’s thirty-five degrees in this small North Florida town, the kind of cold that feels borrowed, like it won’t stay long enough to learn my name. Then they arrive— not snowflakes exactly. Reminding me of dust bunnies as they drifting loose from the sky, soft, unsure, floating past my face before vanishing into nothing. I…
My Life In Word 