Posted in memoir

Memorium

In the Monday of washing day
the lilting sound of your eyes
glances inside my soul.
You’ve departed
and it’s been years now.
I don’t cling to the memory,
landing instead like
a bird on a twig
in springtime.

clothespins

On the anniversary of my mother’s passing in 2002

Author:

I'm a writer, artist, and spiritual intuitive. Illustrated journals are my passion and I've been journaling since childhood. I believe in the power of sharing stories together. Working on a memoir.

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