Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Descending Fog

How's your brother?
Cancer. Tumors. Hospice. Inoperable.
Weeks. Days. Who knows?
Life is fleeting.

A silent prayer
for those hurting.
Let go, I tell myself
as I imagine losing
my brother, my sister,
my husband, my little boy, my little girl,
another friend or coworker or parent.

Reading my sadness,
the morning fog descends.
I don't see
the bunny scampering
in front of me.
Brakes slammed.
Thoughts interrupted.
Thoughts amplified.
I sigh.
Life is fragile.

A text message from an old friend
with thoughts of time flying
while he misses things.
Life is flying.

The bunny lived,
still I am missing things.
For a moment
the fog lifts as
I remind myself
Life is fleeting.
Life is fragile.
Life is flying.


  1. Coffee from a glass.
    Crossword puzzle is complete.
    Self worth is restored.

  2. Thanks old friend. Did your self worth ever really come from finishing the crossword? Time is flying. Up in 5 hours.

  3. Such true and profound words. I feel your sadness. I feel you hopefulness. Thanks. I also love the exercise of poetry:
    So much depends upon our words,
    piled high in a blog,
    waiting to be read.


Thanks for reading my writing and sharing your thoughts with me.