A beautiful couple.
Fun adventures.
Sad times.
Good memories.
Unhappy losses.
New house.
Children.
Grandchildren.
Parties.
Funerals.
Happy together in life.
Happy together in death.
children
THE LONE ECHO
THE STAIRCASE
I close my eyes to sleep,
and what do I see?
The stairs from my
elementary school.
I hear children’s voices
as they dash to their classes.
I hear their shouts
as they run to the basement for lunch.
I can’t see their faces
but only hear their voices.
All I can see is the empty staircase,
the lone echo of my childhood.
ECHO
THE STAIRCASE
I close my eyes to sleep,
and what do I see?
The staircase from my past.
The stairs from my
elementary school.
I can hear voices
as the children run up the stairs.
to their classes.
I can hear their shouts
as they run down
to the basement for lunch.
I can’t see their faces.
I only hear their voices.
All I can see is the empty staircase.
The lone echo of my childhood.
HOT BALL OF YELLOW
Source:Flickr / stumpyheaton
A hot ball of yellow
sets over a palette
of grey and blue.
Cries of laughter float
through a park of green
dotted with bushes of red.
Rainbow-colored homes
behind white picket fences
hold hands in the waning light.
A perfect place.
For daydreaming.
For wishes.
For The Dead.
THE DEAD GAME
SO HAPPY TOGETHER
A beautiful couple.
So happy together.
Fun times.
Sad times.
Good memories.
Unhappy losses.
New house.
Children.
Grandchildren.
Parties.
Funerals.
So happy together in life.
So happy together in death.
THE CARNIVAL
The carnival calls to me.
Sounds of laughter
float to me in the distance.
I want to be there.
I want to be a child again
for one afternoon.
Go back in time when
life was enjoyed to its fullest.
I will dip my toes in the sand
and run to the carnival.
I will buy cotton candy and
eat it with sticky fingers.
I will ride the ferris wheel
until I am dizzy from the height.
Children are running to the rides.
I am one of them.
For this afternoon,
I am one of them.
THE STAIRCASE
I close my eyes to sleep,
and what do I see?
The staircase from my past.
The stairs from my
elementary school.
I can hear children’s voices
as they run up the stairs to classes.
I can hear their shouts
as they run down to the basement for lunch.
But I can’t see their faces.
I can only hear their voices.
All I can see is the empty staircase.
A lone echo of my childhood.
