Memory Floods

Past rises like
river water, fills
basement rooms
of daily life.
Old photographs
float like lilies,
while lost voices
drift through doors,
carrying debris
of what was, what
might have been. - SJ

Morning Light

Like a sparrow caught
between storm clouds,
hope trembles, then steadies—
finding purchase in the smallest
branch, in the thinnest
ray of dawn breaking
through December trees. - SJ

(Exploring shorter poetic forms - other materials will stay on older platforms)

OK, prompted by a few others who are "posting" into the void - I'm a writer, composer, educator, and a few dozen other things depending on what my friends and community needs at that time. I don't do short format posting as well, but here we are...