Words Worth A Thousand Pictures

Crushing the Cliche That A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

Wings

I’ve fondled that picture so often through the years it’s curled and faded. It sits in my hand, a cold, stiff, lifeless tomb that cradles my memories.

But still my memories of her are warm, vibrant, euphoric. They leap from the paper and dance in my heart.

Color burns through the gray, revealing giggles and sighs. Smells of vanilla and fresh-cut hay waft through the creases. Secret glances across crowded rooms steal across the frozen image.

Remembering hands held lightly while meandering down dusty lanes helps me to forget, if only for the briefest of moments.

That was her idea, you know. A dare, really. That was her style. Walk thin lines on a whim, leave the broad and stable paths for the crowds.

I was content to follow her lead, though she depended on me to catch her when she fell — a balancing act that worked like a poet’s dream for 56 years.

But it was I who fell the day she stretched her wings, lifted from her throne, and disappeared into the clouds.

As I feel my fledgling wings form, I still follow her.

Advertisements

Single Post Navigation

2 thoughts on “Wings

  1. Lori Gardner on said:

    That was really beautiful Steve. Thanks for being so inspiring! 🙂

  2. Marvelous, simply marvelous. =)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: