My newest adventure is underway. It has lead me to take up residency in a new blog,
Like the Feathers of an Arrow (affectionately known as LFA).

...don't open...don't throw away... is not disappearing completely (not yet),
but postings here will be limited.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

0 had i only known

had i known
my last goodbye would be greeted by cold hard stone...
when it could have been met with a smile and kiss that spoke louder than words...

had i known
my last embrace would be an empty fleeting memory...
no longer possessing the warmth and comfort that holds the power to heal me...

had i known
my last words would dissolve into irrelevant meaningless nothing...
when they could have encased within them the power and strength of my love...

had i known
that is was my last chance...
would it have made things easier to bear...
would i have said and done things differently...
would the tears not flood, threating to drown me, but puddle instead...
would the memory of my last hug hold fresher and warm me when i need it the most...

had i only known



'to know or not to know, that is the questions'...how does your last chance at something change with the knowledge that it is your last chance?  this post was inspired in part by Poetic Asides' Wednesday Prompt...and in part by the tears that still threaten to drown me...

0 signs

...continuation of science...
   which is a
...continuation of books...

He stepped forward.  His approach seemed to go completely unnoticed as she took a book from the shelves, turned it over and began reading.  There was little doubt that he had entered her space and was within her peripheral range.  She kept her trained on the back of the cover.  He watched as she turned the book over in her hands and read the quotes on the front.  After what seemed like an eternity, she placed the book back on the shelf and shifted to the next bookshelf.  He stared openly at her and saw her shift slightly to push the limits of her vision so he was no longer present.  This was a sign.  He should turn and walk away.  He had found that most people looked up or glanced at someone who approached the same space as them.  She on the contrary seemed to make a point of disregarding his presence.  Walk away.  He told himself.  But something about her intrigued him.  Just as he felt like giving into his rational self, she picked up a book that he had read.  This would be the perfect opening to get her attention and force her to escape the bubble she seemed to have placed around herself.  He stepped closer.  "Amnesia Moon.  It a pretty good book."