Parts of Me


You may see a wreck
Pointless pile of rubble
But watch where you step


Memories survive here
Beautiful palette of wild
Each particle a part of me

You may see rocks or meaningless pebbles. I see generations of my family walking this trail together. The dust you feel on your cheek was made by my grandfather’s boots. Men who worked countless hours to bring variegated boulders off mountains and creeks.

This muddy ground is the true stability I craved, as a young girl who needed to feel safe, and not just a vessel to walk upon. You may see weak or wild grass, which you consider far too thin. I noticed the movement of the wind, as it traveled the terrain of these mountains, a wild strength on its approach. Offering a young woman security and comfort, while she embraced a protective sway.

You notice simple yellow flowers, maybe considering their lack of generous beauty, before dismissing their worth. I remember a bouquet of brave flowers growing and welcoming me each summer, a spectacular vision for my homecoming. Allowing me the peace to believe that lingering sorrows would surely be eliminated here, as I familiarized myself with seeing love. Wildflowers promising I’d shine once again, if I would only breathe and recall their ability to thrive.

This is what I recall when I look at this patch someone else might find insignificant. It fixed me.  For those who see what I see, I will take your pain as mine.




Love took a muted hue when he left
I believed every word he said
As if spoken to my heart
Trusting him was easy
Now what will I do
Try to explain
I was used
His love

( Nonet: 9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1 Syllable(s) )

No secret that I sometimes require strict rule following to write. My mind is a stubborn place.

But then I found my poem to be so incredibly sad, so I wrote another.


Come witness poetic loyalty
His devotion to my spirit
Not even I can believe
He allows fate to guide
Respite found in me
To my surprise
We can dream


Hey, y’all. So the second half of the excerpt I wanted to share with you will post this morning.

I probably read similar content inside Danielle Steele’s novels in high school, but just to be sure I’m protecting anyone who happens upon my blog for the first time by making the excerpt private.

Imagine that post being the first words they read. Phew! I’d be setting expectations a bit high from then on, I think. We all know I’m just a messy poet.

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