Christmas Reminder!

Throwback post! Merry Christmas!

2020

Searching for peace in all this unrest Another hurtle for 2020 and a split between righteous and wicked. Don’t ask me which is which as both sides hold heaven and hell. If every person thinks they are right how can you get them to see reason? It use to be that facts and science stood

More Time

Never enough time. Being the youngest of four I always thought I was the furthest from all the changes that come with age. I calculated my youth by all the milestones I had yet to reach. Now I find myself on the precipice of something new. Another change I don’t look forward to. A slower

What of Me?

What of me when newness fades?When you have since abandoned longing for my lips. The shape of my disposition no longer quenching your desires. What of me when time and toil have stolen my days?When these arms lose the worth of their breadth. Ravaged by ailments and grief of this life. What of me when

Frayed Edges

Here I go again. Omitting truth for peace. Afraid to crush your fragile sentimentality. Constantly teetering on the scale of our relationship. This time I won’t falter, No matter the cost. This time I will speak my mind, Without concern for your delicate heart. The one I fight to understand as I search for my

Broken Seashells

The crisp breeze blew as time erased another sunset from the sky. The light of the  first star pricked a hole in the darkness and the moon set up, dismissing the pale blue of the day. I found myself staring up, feeling insignificant,  as memories of you began to wash in like broken seashells on

Soliloquy

The smell of fresh rolls wafted through the dining area. I sat at the bar waiting for my order. A man sat three stools down. I caught intermittent mumbles about death, the end of the world, and some Bible verses. I wonder if he knows something I don’t? If he hears the echo of voices

We Rise

No worries, We’ll be okay, whatever may come. Empires have risen and fallen Hellfire, rain, famine, locust, pandemic and all. We’ll be okay. We’ll rise from the rubble, rebuild what was lost. Waters recede, and the sun shines again We’ll rise from the ash, as spring gifts us her bloom. Crops are resown, industries recover

Nostalgia

I take my place as part of a final generation that grew up when Saturday morning cartoons were still a thing, and Sundays were still held sacred. Before internet and cell phones trapped us in zombie mode. Saying so makes me feel ancient. It’s a strange thing when change comes so quickly. A quarter of

Mayflies

I use to think when people died young it was because there was so much sadness in their hearts they just could’t keep it from breaking. I would have kept on believing this had I not lost my daddy so young, or experienced the agony of losing two unborn children, only to find I still

Sanctimonious

The words rolled off her tongue so eloquently. I, even believed her bullshit. She wore that infectious smile and feigned excitement when she met someone new. Inviting you to rub elbows with the “elites,” like that is where you belonged. Fooled so many, including myself, with her slippery manipulations. If she said you were enough,

Once Upon A Time

I sat in my car that gray stricken day and watched drops of water speckle the windshield then collect into tiny puddles. They slid down the glass, like shooting stars, gathering their friends along the way. My mind unable to shake our earlier conversation. “I want a divorce; I don’t love you the way I

Merry Christmas!

As Christmas Eve falls upon us again and we each repeat our holiday traditions. (Some of us in a not so jolly disposition) Take a moment to stop, take a breath, and take it all in. Remember those you love, those who couldn’t make it for a visit, and those no longer with us. These

The End

It’s over now. I ripped you from my life. You were woven in so tightly for so long. I didn’t think I could hold it together without you there. I didn’t think I’d survive it. I miss you at times. We were best friends. I thought by some miracle we still would be, But I

Etchings

Photograph©2015 B. Clary All of your things are gone now. My mind rummages through fading memories, trying to find one bright enough to cling to. The wisdom you’d freely given in my youth reduced to worn etchings on my bitter heart, relics of a time I had squandered it. Dreams of you are few and

My Screen Door

The concrete was hot on my feet that late summer evening. My toes curled in response to the slight discomfort. A symphony of crickets and locusts permeated the warm evening air like an orchestra welcoming the night. I stood there listening to their song, nostalgia washing over me again. Memories of messy brunette hair, bare

A Life

The stars pricked holes in the darkness and I wished I could live under them. Warm air wrapped me up and I was home. I stood there a moment thinking of him and what he would have been like. His soft fuzzy hair on my fingertips, a sweet little face and gummy grin, those tiny

Paint All of Your Secrets

Copyright 2018 Clary Can I paint all of your secrets with a waterfall of words? As you open every window screaming to be heard As I pull apart the pieces of your badly mangled heart As I separate the tangled strands that tell me who you are. Can I wash out all the shades of