What may come

Searching through
histories of ourselves
raw and unedited
with the soundtrack
to die for.
He’s been gone so long
yet still so close
like a hangnail festering
alive like a pain to the soul
still here
after all.
Damn, to see that face still can
make me feel
and cry as I wonder
where would he be
if he had not given it all
and lost it all
and left us behind
like a faded street sign wondering
which way do we go
As I’m standing here on the ground
skies always waiting in the sidelines
to all fall down,
but to look at you
in reckless moments
always sparks the fire…
the soul calls for change
while the heart says don’t….
some feet under don’t make anything in the mix
‘cept tears for yesterday,
as we wipe them away and wonder
where does the time go…
where will we go when all is said and done,
and though were not so very young
and oh so pretty,
what a pity to dwell in these pages
songs and lyrics
and voices of yesterday
that still haunt from the depths
of disillusion.
And so we dream on,
Beginning with a word we should not
per the rule books
but what do they mean
if nothing at all
in the grand scheme of things,
for love is what I say,
and by my side
in rooms of faces
we will be ourselves,
clouded images of a history
a before you and me
a collage
of a dream through images
perpetually and always
meant to be.

Watching old INSX videos and reliving my younger years….poor Michael Hutchensce and songs that were a integral part of my consciousness…..Don’t Change, To Look at you, etc….coming up on my birthday and feeling and reeling in the years….The one thing, etc…..yep, still going there….and everywhereūüíēūüíú

Yesterday once more (part 3)

Emily opened the drapes to let some light into the room, grabbed a cold water from the refrigerator and sat in¬†the surprisingly comfortable leather chair at the desk. Let’s see what you want to share my friend, she said as she turned to the second page.

November 10th, 1940

The girls are kicking again Samuel, I do so wish you could be here to feel what I feel. The weather here has been pretty good considering, for this time of year. You know you never can tell as the sun comes up what to expect but the girls always seem more restless on nice days. I know, we don’t know they’re going to be girls and you’re hoping for a boy but if there has to be two, I’d like them to be a matching set, kind of like salt and pepper shakers. The doctor said Friday¬†that everything is progressing nicely, the heartbeats sound strong, etc…you know how doctors are, even if something were awry they would never let on. He talked to mother while I was getting dressed and afterwards she seemed a bit off. She said that everything was good but I have a feeling, you know me and my feelings, they’re always spot on. I think there’s something she’s not telling me. You never know which one is which till you turn it over. It’s been hard with you gone but I know it’s necessary so that we can get a place of our own. Mom has been especially kind and work is getting harder as I get larger. The girls don’t make it easy but Mr Johnson said he understands if I cannot clean the offices anymore and to not push myself. He is a kind man and I do believe he is a good-hearted person, even for a lawyer. He will be going on vacation next month so I would have some time off then but at the rate my stomach is growing and the way the girls are fighting in there, I wouldn’t be surprised to see them come out a bit early. I hope the weather is treating you ok on the ship. It must be tough cooking for the guys with the rocking of the waves, but perhaps because the ships so big you don’t feel it as much, you’ve never said so and I can only guess. I received your letter and the money last week but know not to write as you never know where you will be at a given point so I use this as my Samuel correspondence instead. I put the money in the bank and it, like the girls is growing nicely.

I am enjoying writing in this book, perhaps I have found my passion after all, besides you of course, but I have to do something besides wait, you know how I like to keep busy. Mother made me a cake for my birthday and sang for me. She put two candles on the cake as she thought it would be too hard for me to blow out all 21 at this stage and I’m glad she did. It’s hard to believe that in another month you’ll be back and the girls will make their grand entrance. She made my day so very special, and also made my favorite¬†cheesy potato casserole with ham and it was all so divine. It would have been better with you here but we have our lives ahead of us and we will be a family all together before you know it. I miss you my love, so desperately. Oops, there goes little E kicking again. I’ve given them nick-names until we can decide together. E is for Extra hard….she is the absolute worst, where as M is mild, she is going to be a gentle one, unless of course E is kicking M in which case it’s ME that gets no joy. But seriously, for names I like Elizabeth and Emma if they’re girls and if there is a boy and a girl, I like Samuel, for you of course my dear. I’ll stop here as I am getting a bit tired and am going to lay down, will write more later. Take care and I’ll stand beneath our moon tonight and send love letters through the sky to find you on your ship. Five more days till it’s a full moon, so I hope it’s clear out so that I can watch it through my sleep as I dream of our tomorrows. Don’t work too hard, but I know you will. Love you, Emily and the girls?

November 11, 1940

Good morning Samuel, I’m hoping the day is finding you happy and that the weather is cooperating. It is 55¬†degrees here and it’s going to be a nice day I hear. I had a horrid night sleeping. I can say this here as I know you won’t read it until you get back but it was truly bad. Both girls were kicking and I don’t feel like I got any sleep. I had a nightmare last night. Something bad happened and you had disappeared and I called for you, almost like I was searching in a thick cloud and the babies were coming and I needed you but all I kept hearing was the echo of my voice calling you. It was horrible, I woke up sweating and had to open the window to let in the breeze. I am unsettled and I am afraid the girls may be trying to break free before their time. I’m not ready. Here all this time I thought I was but talking to them in there as opposed to out in the world, moving and crying, well I think I’m just scared. I know you can’t be here right now and that’s ok. I am not going in to work today, Mom said I looked ashen and tired and she called Mr Johnson to beg me off for the day. I think he took it well, I was too tired to ask, just grateful for the time to try to catch up on some sleep. Thank God for Mom. I don’t know what I would do without her here to take care of me. Here I think I’m married and all grown up, two babes on the way and a beautiful man on the wide blue lakes and yet I feel like a child. Be well my love, will write again soon…there goes the girls again, ouch that smarts. Sigh…..

November 12, 1940

My beautiful Samuel, I slept the day through and woke early evening to find Mother asleep in her chair. She had set out dinner for me and another piece of birthday cake that she had frozen. I forgot to tell you, it was chocolate with chocolate butter frosting, not your favorite I know, but I let Mom¬†sleep and I ate quietly, enjoying the peace and flavors of my supper. The girls have been on and off with their antics and I’m tired of being tired. I also found your latest letter next to the place setting and a flower that mother must have cut from the garden. It is a beautiful white rose. She never parts with her roses except for special occasions. She is trying so hard to make it easier for me and I am blessed to have her. Your letter was dated three¬†weeks ago. I’m sure not much changes from week to week but it’s funny as the other letter with the money was from two weeks ago. The postal service on the water is a funny thing indeed. It’s like going back and forth in time. There was talk there was a horrible storm on Lake Michigan yesterday and I hope you are holed up somewhere safe. The SS William B Davock (Big Willie as you so affectionately call it)¬†is so big, I don’t¬†worry¬†of anything drastic happening as seems¬†so safe. Unlike smaller craft, my mind is at ease that all is well. Hope you dressed warm and are staying dry and thinking of me, I know, you always think of me as I always think of you. Will talk soon love. I am going to read for a while and digest my dinner, it isn’t settling well and the girls are boxing again.

Mother just left and I don’t know what to say. They say your ship went down in the storm yesterday. I don’t believe it. I refuse to believe it. I would know if something happened to you, I would feel it to my core if I were to lose you. I cannot let you go, the girls haven’t had a chance to meet you and I’ll be damned if I’m just going to give up and believe this lie. Samuel, say it isn’t true, send me a sign….please, I beg of you, Don’t leave me. I can’t live without you, without you there is no me…Oh God, please I pray, let it be a lie, let Samuel be alive. I can’t bear this, the girls need you. I need you. Please…….


to read part one and two:

Yesterday once more (short story intro)

Yesterday once more (continued)


Yesterday once more (continued)

The March rain continued to paint the airport windows in sheets of waterfalls. Emily walked down the ramp to the exit to retrieve her rental car and looked at the deluge beyond with disdain. “I didn’t even think about an umbrella” she muttered to herself and made a U-turn to go back to a kiosk that had them for sale, “most likely marked up to the hilt” she thought as she grabbed a pretty paisley one and searched for the price tag. Twenty one dollars for an umbrella, but a necessary evil, besides, I can use it again back home perhaps, she thought as she dived into her bag to produce the money and handing it over to the sales lady, gave a short nod and walked away. The line was non-existent at the rental car booth and she signed where asked, took the keys and walked towards the exit. The rain outside had lessened a bit but she opened the umbrella and stepped off the curb towards where the car would be found. She skirted the puddles that she could but still ended up ankle-deep with one foot in a pothole that was hidden below the shimmering water. A quick growl erupted in her throat as she shook off what she could and continued stalking to where the white¬†Chevy Malibu¬†sat forlornly at the end of the lot. “Of course you’d have to be at the end, stupid car” she said as she unlocked it with the fob, throwing the wet umbrella in the hatch and dug through her bag for her running shoes. She peeled off her dripping stockings in the car and dried her foot off on the car mat, put on her sneakers and fired the car up. She hadn’t been back to Buffalo in years, had always hated it but tomorrow was the funeral and then the reading of the will, which she hoped wouldn’t take long. She wasn’t due to fly out for a few more days, figuring she’d take in a little sight-seeing downtown. There had been a lot of development since she’d been there last and she was surprised to find herself almost eager to see the new waterfront. After all, nothing good ever happened there, but the papers that she’d look at every now and then was heralding it as the “new Buffalo”. “Lets see if it lives up to the hype”, she thought as she reached the border of West Seneca. She didn’t even remember getting on the thruway but before she even knew it, the hotel parking lot was just ahead of her. I’ve really got to pay more attention and get my head out of the clouds before I kill myself or someone else, she thought as a horn sounded behind her, startling her back into the here and now. ¬†She turned into the lot as the impatient driver behind her careened off and moved from her view. “Welcome home Emily” she said to the eyes that greeted her in the rearview mirror. She was surprised to see the dark bags beneath her normally bright sparkling eyes. Perhaps a nap before dinner was in order and she grabbed her wet shoes off of the mat, got the umbrella and her bag out of the hatch and headed into the foyer of the hotel.

Emily saw the pretty blonde behind the desk who greeted her with a wide smile. She thought she looked familiar and with a start, realized it was the little girl who had lived next door to where she had grown up. Her name tag said Cynthia, but Emily remembered her as Cindy. Her pigtails had been replaced by highlights and waves but the smile was the same perky one she had known. “Oh my goodness, I saw an Emily Williams listed as an incoming customer and Oh my, I am so sorry about your mother, I should have put two and two together when I saw that, but Oh my, it’s so good to see you. What’s it been, around five years now?” Cindy said with a cross between embarrassment and joy tinged with a bit of remorse and Emily returning the smile replied “More like ten years now, and thank you. Yes I’m here for the funeral and will be in town for a few days before I fly back out. Look how much you’ve grown up, my friend.”

“We should get together when my shift ends and have a drink, I’d love to hear what you’ve been up to all this time” she said with a wide infectious smile.

“I need to lay down for a bit and take a nap, what time do you get off?”

“Five o’clock, three hours from now. But if you’re too tired, I understand completely. It must be hard being back here again and I know your mother wasn’t the easiest person to get along with but in the last year, she kind of mellowed out a bit, if that’s even a possibility. You know Liz, she was a cantankerous old coot, up until the end but it’s still sad to know I won’t be able to look at her window and see those mean old raised eyebrows glaring at me through the shades when I get home late. You’d think she thought I was out carousing like a slut or something the way she looked at me, but you know me. That was never my style. Still, she had her ways. I know you know all about that. But if you’re up to it, would love to chat for a bit when I’m done” Emily nodded at her tirade, Cindy hadn’t changed, always talking eighty miles an hour but she was a sweet soul, still was after all these years and she was kind of eager to hear the news of her old hometown and friend.

“I’ll meet you down here at five, yeah, that sounds good to me. It’ll give me a chance to freshen up and catch a quick nap. I look forward to it, Cin,” she said, and she took the plastic key and headed towards the elevator.

“Hey Emily, wait a moment” Cindy said as she bent down below the desk and seemed to be rummaging around before her head popped back up and she held out a brown paper package. “This was left back here for you from some dude in a suit, I almost forgot about it” and Emily walked back to take the small box. She shook it but it made no sound, she turned it around and saw it was marked with her name on it and Esquires in the top corner. It felt like a book or something and she tossed it into her bag, gave a wave to Cindy and walked into the open elevator. “See you at five” she said as the doors closed.

The little door light turned green and she turned the knob to room 313 that led into her home for the next few nights. She hit the light switch and was pleasantly surprised to see a nice setup. A modern and clean hotel, she thought, what a novel concept and she tossed her bag onto the second bed, kicked off her shoes and stretched out with a yawn. Grabbing the remote she flicked it to the local news channel and wasn’t surprised to see yet another drive by shooting. She turned the tv off and grabbed her bag for the package. It was wrapped in what looked like a paper bag but lifting the corners, the contents slid out easily. It was a photograph, a note card and a small leather-bound book. She looked at the image but wasn’t quite sure who it was, seeing similarities between her mother and Aunt but set it aside as she opened the note card.

Emily, as part of the will, this package was to be delivered to you prior to the service. The instructions were for you to read this, that more things will make sense after you do this. I hope you get in early enough that you can complete this. I will see you tomorrow at the service. Looking forward to meeting you. Sincerely, Robert F. Johnson Esq.

She sat the note card down with the photo. The woman eyes stared at her with an almost sultry and knowing look and reminded her more of Emma than Elizabeth. Perhaps a relation to the family, she thought and opened the strange leather volume up to the yellowed first page. To be read only upon my death were the only words on the faded page and it was signed Emily Williams Knoll.

to be continued…..


The locket (a short story)

Ellie sat waiting in traffic as the sun streamed in, blinding her as it¬†rose in to the position of becoming an annoyance. She was heading to the farmers market on the main street in town, they was an antique sale going on that weekend and she loved vintage postcards and anything old that could be bought for peanuts. She reached over and grabbed her sunglasses, fumbling around in her overstuffed bag and finding them, settled them to rest on her nose. The morning radio news spewed their normal routines, canned laughter that made her roll her eyes and she looked over to the car that sat tied up alongside of her, only to see a very irate man shouting into his phone. She had sat there, not moving for what seemed like eternity and was getting irritated. Must be an accident up there she thought to herself, and when the car ahead of her nudged forward a little, she decided the market could wait and eased her Toyota into the oncoming lane to pull a U-turn. I’ll go later, she thought as she gently pulled out and around heading back home. She made it about a quarter-mile when a small sign ahead grabbed her attention. “Estate Sale” it said and she looked down at the dash clock and realized it was just starting. “I will be the early bird that gets the worm” she said with a chuckle and turned down Bard Street, a road she had never been on. The large elms spread themselves creating a canopy of shade which after sitting in the sun with her car whose air conditioning only spread light cool, it was a welcome relief. There were a few cars parked along on the side of the road ahead and so she joined the line of parked cars and got out to head to the small white stucco house with the sign in the yard. Three people waited at the door and by the time she got there, they had already gone in to peruse the offerings. She walked through the stately glass doors and felt the hair on her arms begin to rise. The front of the house opened to a beautiful foyer and in the middle stood a table with a Chinese vase filled with orchids. She looked at the ornately carved legs and knew she had seen this before somewhere. Another woman came in behind her so she left the table and continued on to where voices could be heard in the room to her right. The large lit room was a library of sorts. Tall shelves went from floor to ceiling and the musty smell of old worn books dusty with tired bindings filled her nose, the furniture was in immaculate shape but she wasn’t here for furniture. At the far end of the room was a stone fireplace. The mantel was hand carved and had some small glass knickknacks sitting on it, but what drew her eyes was the portrait that hung above it in a stunning gold filigree frame. Two young girls gazed into her eyes and she stood in shock as her purse hit the floor with a loud thunk. Eyes turned to look at her but she stood there transfixed on the image before her.

A gentleman in a worn grey suit walked up to her and placed his hand on her arm, drawing her attention from the image to his warm green eyes. “Is everything okay Miss?” he said and bent down to pick up her bag. Ellie took a small breath and watched as he pushed a book and a tube of lipstick back into her bag ¬†and then he rose and held out the bag to her. “My name is Michael and I work with the firm handling the estate of Elouise and Jadis” he said, holding out a small business card that he tucked into her shaking hand. “I see you’ve seen the girls in their portrait, it is rather beautiful is it not” he said as he looked over at the image. “And you are?” his empty hand held out waiting to be politely shaken, and Ellie, slowly catching her breath tentatively took his hand and introduced herself. “Ellie” she said quietly. He shook her hand softly and withdrew it with a nod, “Let me know if I can be of service, if you’re interested in purchasing anything I’ll be happy to help you”. He walked away with a smile and Ellie returned her gaze to the photograph. The young girl on the right wore a small locket and Ellie reached up and lightly touched the same matching one around her own neck. It felt warm to the touch. She took a few steps towards Michael who stood over by the bookshelf watching her. “Excuse me, could you tell me a little bit about Elouise and Jadis? If you don’t mind that is” and Michael cleared his throat and began.

“Elouise was the oldest sister and Jadis was born one hour after Elouise. Elouise passed away ten weeks ago on her birthday, she lived to a grand old age of 97 and Jadis passed away an hour later. It was quite strange the way that all transpired, they were twins at birth and died the same way. Neither of them ever married, no children either. It was told that Elouise ruled the home and unless a young man passed muster, no one was to be with her sister. they died old maids. They both did a lot in the community and were kind and loving souls. I’m surprised you hadn’t heard of them. They were both actresses in the local theater and devoured books like ravenous crows, the two of them.” Ellie just absorbed every word that Michael spoke, tales of their plays, their good deeds, they were a piece of history that had now come to an end. “How much for the portrait?” Ellie asked, knowing the price would be far above her price range. “One hundred dollars, but you could make an offer and it may be received” he answered with a smile. Ellie reached into her bag for her wallet and still not believing what she was seeing, counted out exactly one hundred dollars. Her budget for groceries now severely constrained but worth it. “Don’t you want to even make an offer lower than that” Michael said. He watched her with curiosity, as anyone in their right mind would try to low bid it, but she shook her head no and handed the money over to him. Michael pulled out a receipt book and asked her some information, tore off her copy and handed it to her with a 20$ back. She looked confused but he just smiled. “You seem like a nice young woman and no one is going to want a lot of this stuff, it’ll just go to auction and I’d like to see you get it, as it¬†seems to have moved you in some fashion and I know you will treat it like the treasure it it.” He walked over to the fireplace and carefully removed the image. Ellie held out her hands to take it, watching as her hands shook, she took the faded image carefully and thanked Michael and turned to leave.
“I hope to see you around some time” he said to her retreating back and Ellie turned and gave him a soft smile. “I hope so too” she said and walked out the door. She set the framed piece carefully in her car, smiling to herself that a traffic jam led to such a find. Her car moved through the dark canopied trees and light beams fell softly in her windows landing on the locket around Elouise’s neck in the image. She reached out a hand and touched the sun spot then touched the locket around her own thin neck. I can’t wait to show Jadis what I found, she thought to herself and went home to see her younger twin. Better late than never she thought, a ten week old late birthday gift for our wall.

In Mary’s Chapel

Through open doors there comes a light

watercolor glass transferred on wooden floors,

an empty vessel once filled with life

now shrouded in peace

in silence.

In Mary’s chapel the ghosts walk here

on worn boards and benches

the haunting memory of hymns sung

and beside the wall beyond the house

a cemetery lies in dappled filtered light

where souls who lived a hundred years gone

now rest beside the bay

and the names remembered in shells and stone

wait for nothing here but a visitor

and we walk on white paths that lead to her place

so long ago but still here it seems,

with quiet grace she sits beside

waiting in her shadows of a dove of peace

and flowers that sway in the ocean breeze.

Yesterday was spent at Historic Spanish Point in Osprey Florida and this stained glass window was the only image I took of the entire grounds, a lot of history but here in this quiet little church where the light shone quietly as if waiting for a prayer, I stopped to take the photo to remember this Mary’s chapel, named for Mary Sherrill, a young wonam who had been brought to Florida for the warmth and healing of her malady and died while here.¬†I found it a lovely place of peace. Hope you enjoy.

Peace and love on a fine Sunday morning.


Words from dust

Nestled in plastic wrapping
Below a stack of not as ancient brethren,
Stitched together
Handmade pages bound
Slipped between leather
Words to dust.
I hold your fragile soul
Gently in my hands
Like a newborn child
Tenderly and with awe and joy.
I turn each page
Losing myself in letters
To who you were
Over a century ago
And I feel the loss through tales told
By friends and acquaintances
Of the life you both lived,
Of the people you had been.
As the ship went down it is told
The choice made to walk into a stateroom
To spend the last moments
Departing together alone
Sharing words of love
I would think, of your life
And the last touch
As you clung together
On your journey home
As one.
A gift I possess
To hold this piece of history
And to discover two new friends
Whose story filters through my thoughts
Leaving me blessed
To be able to be a part of
Holding and delving into
The memory of you.

I found a book, in memoriam to Elbert and Alice Hubbard. I live one town away from where the Roycroft is, founded by Elbert and Alice a hundred plus years ago and they both perished on the Lusitania in the war. To touch the pages handmade so many years ago and read the letters sent after their death and compiled into a loved book. I am filled with joy at being able to learn new things while delving into the history of them both. Quite a joy indeed.
To read more on the two: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elbert_Hubbard
Book looks eerily similar to the photo found at deviant art.

Photo found at: http://th08.deviantart.net/fs4/PRE/i/2004/208/8/2/old_prayer_book_01.jpg

Falling into chains

The magnificence

thunderous roar filling ears

the depth and speed to behold

wondrous to the eye.

He walked these shores

lost and entranced by what he found

a world wanderer

no place to lay his head

taken away in chains instead.

Thirty days in a hole

moving from beauty to brutality

fodder for future words

disconcerting I have heard.

For the simple crime of vagrancy

he slept in a concrete house of horrors

so close to my home

facts I had not known.

To know you through pages

I search for antique finds

to hold you in my hands

books of yesterday held by others before me.

Why was I drawn into your life

lessons from teachers or was it simply

a look in your eyes that said

That you too understand the workings

of a writer telling tales

spinning webs to be lost within

letting the soul bleed out

the only way it knew how.


1876-1916) Writer, novelist. London wrote in “The Road” (1907) of his experiences as a drifter coming to Niagara Falls in 1894, being enthralled for hours by the falls, but then (having no money for a hotel room) being arrested for vagrancy and sentenced to a month in the Erie County Penitentiary.





Pilgrimage to desert skies

Hot dry air floats in a clear heat haze,
Fires gone from years ago
Monuments to the sky.
Sun bakes earth
Like scorched bread in a kiln
Dust caked crumbles.
Blue skies run
Like rivers of cloudy tears
Cataracts blind
But the senses still see.
The old crone climbs
Gathering in her sack
Bits of this and that
Walking the sky
As seen from below.
Outlined small like a fly on a wall of azure
Moving slowly
Step by step climbing out of view.
Her eyes no longer open
She moves with ease
She’s been this way before,
Gathering more bits of rock and stone,
whispering words to her family
Through centuries.
Hawk spins slowly in the sky
Circles back and touches down
In the path of her form
She senses his presence and chuckles aloud
Ah, my friend, you’ve come with a gift
And he spreads his great wings and takes flight,
Leaving behind a single feather,
She adds it to her dusty bag
Patting it gently
Keeping it safe.
She has all she needs now,
Her trip complete
On her sky walk,
She sits for a few moments and gazes out before her.
She no longer sees the vision,
But her memories serve her
This window on the world,
She takes a deep breath
Turns around to
To descend.

Nobody home

Nature takes back
What is built by mens hands
Vines creep
Where no one sleeps.
Who walked these halls,
Gazed from the windows
At the day beyond,
Did children play
On waxed wooden floors
Or sit in the sun
While harvesting the fields.
Whose life slipped by
Under the high ceilings
Of this now idle mansion,
Do ghosts echo silence
Off molding walls
And do people wonder
As they drive by
At the inhabitants now gone,
Do they even notice
This decay
As piece by piece
It crumbles away.

She will soar

Sunlight hot on
Yesterday moment
She stands before
Snapshot in time
Years gone by
Little more grey
And that’s ok
Still smiling.
She still believes
As she stands
Dreams in the heart
Life in the soul
Step by step
She walks the edge
She knows.
The world before her
She reaches her hands to the air
Wind blows gently
She is alive
She is a part
Of the sum of the whole,
This she knows to her core,
And it is good.
Sometimes she needs
To remind herself
Gonna make it through girl,
Gonna make it through,
So she moves forward
Shaking the dust off
Highway waves from the sun
Oasis ahead,
She will soar.