Ghost of life

We are worn smooth

Grainy finish tempered by the hands of time

Broken down unknowingly

With each step we take across

The threshold of our days.

We never notice the changes at first

Beginning rough on edges

Not quite finished until we progress forward

For we are born to be forged

Into that which we choose to become.

Like the endless rub of the minutes passing,

Each stroke

And every storm that weathers 

Leaving each corner just a bit more rounded

And so very strong as we stand up 

Against the tides and weather,

Thickening where needed

On the edges where no one dares tread,

We emerge from the depths as the seas of life sink around us,

Broken at times

Yet still standing

And in the ending glow of days,

Our shadows extend to meet the eye

And the soul who ventures forth to glimpse

The perfection of what remains

When all else crumbled so easily

Is always inspired by the knowing

That we survived,

That it can be done.

We sit immersed in the calm

Rippled memories gather and return

Sticking like barnacles to life

So hard to remove

Yet still

A part of the new whole.

Moon sign (thoughts on a parade)

Below the sign of these times

moon hangs languidly in a neon blue sky

commotion and motion swirling to the beat

of the cop car lights

no traffic allowed except by foot.

We meander in and about the lots

as children sit watching and waiting

and the drums in the distance herald the start

as the oohs and ahhhs start

marchers move in procession

and the band fills the air with a lively tune

as I feel tears in my eyes

as I often do when I hear the horns and drums

played by practiced hands who move in rhythm

to the beat.

A cool day on tap as the breeze blows gently down upon

the street lined with camera clad folks

and candy is thrown to the children who sit

gathered up by eager hands

I laugh and raise my view to the coming

of the local parade.

With politics and red, white and blue

I choose to capture the young faces found

and of course the cone

because everyone loves a happy cream

and this day moves past and as we turn to leave

when the end is near

I’m glad that I live here.

Thoughts on a Siesta Fest going on in town all weekend, vendors of food and jewelry, crafts and clothes and of course, the parade. Glad we came and just thought I’d share some of what I saw. Peace and march on folks….K