spit, mixed with dirt – muddy words flow
Lowering myself to the edge of the bed
I clutched the small box to my chest
Afraid to look inside
Afraid not to
It had been given to me
Both a curse and then a gift
With a trembling grip I lifted its lid
Stared inside at the contents
Carefully fingering each item within
A story swirling coalesced in my mind
Slowly began to unfold before my very eyes
To write it down for others
Or keep it to myself remains yet to be seen
For now I tenderly replaced the lid
Tears silently falling
Their presence my only witness
©️tara caribou – 2018
livingforthemoon
Butterwell's Blog
Inspiration
... from a silent space
Jane's Lens
Professional Wildlife, Landscape and Seascape Photography
Love to write!
Life Is Beautiful
Apologies for my apologies
All of Me
Providing a voice for the voiceless. Poets, artists, writers...sound off! Grinding through the dumpster fire that can be life...possibly get published
Writing and Whatnot
Deep a different 😍
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is a good piece. I like the end. Tears are often the only witness. Great work.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. This time of year is always hard for me as the anniversary of the death of my son approaches.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I didn’t know you had a son who passed away. I am sorry.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A lot of times, if I’m writing about grief, that’s what I’m writing about, yes. In a few days it will be seven years that I held him in my arms as he died. Most impactful day of my life.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Damn, I’m so sorry to hear that.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for the kind words. He has made me a better person and for that I am grateful. But losing a child is a bitter pill to swallow. Hug that little girl of yours next chance you get, okay?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Of course, I don’t know how not to hug her.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That is horrific. I’m truly sorry, hun.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks T. ))hugs((
LikeLiked by 1 person
Heartfelt and to the point without a lot of explanation. I hope writing about it, expressing it in that way helps, heals.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you
LikeLike
This is different, enjoyed it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you! I’m so happy you did.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Welcome!
LikeLike
Can I ask a question, though? Did you like it BECAUSE it was different or you liked it AND it was different?
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s different from what you normally write, but besides it being different I liked it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I see.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like variety! 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m sure you do…
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m mostly a one-track mind, myself. I’ll let you figure what track that is.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I am sadly one tracked as well, lol
LikeLiked by 1 person
lol – I get it, man.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nothing like your own stash of your life, I had my poems hidden away 17 till 34 it felt good to show them to strangers
LikeLiked by 1 person
I agree with you there.
LikeLike
Pingback: Journal Entries – Raw Earth Ink