Donna
Autorin
There is a breeze here on the porch.
And the day feels like it is sleeping,
having just dozed off during the in-between hours when morning slides into afternoon.
A fleet of clouds scampers across the sky
avoiding the sun.
One huge billowy cloud hangs around opening its mouth to swallow a small one.
There is a certain slant of light collapsing through the beech trees on the hill.
I hear a cracking into the quiet, see an angle of trunk begin to lean, then rustle its branches across the limbs along the stagger of woods to drop down with a final thud.
And all my pent-up grief suddenly presses my chest hard, welling up in my eyes as I fight for composure yet must ultimately yield the natural order of release as tears start their descent.
There it is, the repressed sorrow for all of life's tragedies and things that we have absolutely no control over, that slowly gnaw at us over time. Thinking that stuffing them far down they'll not surface again.
I let myself hurt as I grab my glass of now sweating lemonade which has also reached its dew point.
Wiping the droplets away, I contemplate why hardship chose this kind place to visit.
©Donna H.
April 28, 2023
And the day feels like it is sleeping,
having just dozed off during the in-between hours when morning slides into afternoon.
A fleet of clouds scampers across the sky
avoiding the sun.
One huge billowy cloud hangs around opening its mouth to swallow a small one.
There is a certain slant of light collapsing through the beech trees on the hill.
I hear a cracking into the quiet, see an angle of trunk begin to lean, then rustle its branches across the limbs along the stagger of woods to drop down with a final thud.
And all my pent-up grief suddenly presses my chest hard, welling up in my eyes as I fight for composure yet must ultimately yield the natural order of release as tears start their descent.
There it is, the repressed sorrow for all of life's tragedies and things that we have absolutely no control over, that slowly gnaw at us over time. Thinking that stuffing them far down they'll not surface again.
I let myself hurt as I grab my glass of now sweating lemonade which has also reached its dew point.
Wiping the droplets away, I contemplate why hardship chose this kind place to visit.
©Donna H.
April 28, 2023