With the chatter of Spanish-speaking packers and the clatter of dishes, our belongings and memories are moving into cardboard boxes while I retreat to my computer to search my way through everything that’s been happening in my life and what I’ve learned.
It Sends Me There
When I foresee the damage done
I survey the home, but I see none
When hope is gone
Where boredom grows
Where love succumbs to pointless blows
Years go by and wasted still
Till morning comes and more ensue
To teach complacent and dredging true
It seems to me that all is gone
till one small fern unbends its arm
Thru sod it seems to talk to me
and says what love has forgotten to
It points the way,
He was as curly and unruly as the blond hair that lapped over his ears.
Ronnie had muscles when the rest of us only dreamed of them on the cover of Muscle Magazine....