Growing over a broken branch

20140216_134618

 

Like a tree grows over a broken branch,

We grow over our broken parts into

a new and stronger whole. Something

new built on the old. Stronger. More us.

 

_

 

Sometimes I reach with one foot.

Past the tangle of sheets to find you.

A touch, warmth, your breathing a

sigh – and we settle back to sleep.

_

Watching the snow melt on your

gloves and hat reminds me of the

fun we just had playing in the snow.

Joyful noises from boys and dogs.

_

A .12 gauge plunger, Lego “Awesome”

Big and little, “Where are my pants?”

Farts, toy cars, tech toys and guys.

“Mama can you…” and “Honey where…”

Life always equals more than the parts.

Memories lose their bitter to be sweet.

 

I’m hosting at the dVerse Pub for Poetics this weekend. We are telling love stories, and sharing love poems, without using love language or being too sappy. Enjoy. Come over and see the amazing poets who have shared. Share your own. And leave love. Always leave love.

Advertisements

These are memories

_DSC0024.NEF

These are memories you don’t find in boxes.

These are memories you don’t plan.

These are memories made of fun.

Plain fun, old fashioned together time.

Laughing boys. Running dogs. Smiling us.

These are memories you keep forever and an extra day.

These are memories you don’t have to label.

These are memories made with silly smiles.

Plain old belly laughs, mile wide grins on red faces.

Loving times. Snowy days. Memory making.

These are memories you want to share, and yet keep just us three.

These are memories made on the farm and in the country.

These are memories made with simple things.

Plain up the road and back again fun. Spinning donuts.

Moments not captured but treasured. Memories alive.