Words

We walked down the wet road toward the riverbank, but we decided not to swim that day even though it was warm. Sometimes watching the clouds in the drizzly rain was as much water as one could stand, and we held each other silently on the muddy grass instead.

from Friday, 15 June 2007

Marsha Merritt:
My dearest friend and supporter and lover of everything that I am and am not.
An incredible wife, mother, counselor, hippie older lady
Marsha Merritt passed away yesterday.
My heart has lost a piece, or at least a piece has grown faded.
I loved her, and she loved me.
The world is full of amazing people, but it has certainly lost a saint.
:Marsha Merritt

I wrote this about Marsha a few years ago now, and I'm glad to remember her. I'm usually afraid of people leaving and not returning, but as I read this, I know that these amazing memories and qualities of Marsha are here with me now and she is not gone.

I'm sitting amongst familiarity

but the walls are white and

my floor is no longer purple.

i see clues that you are a part of this

but i've never been very trusting and

ticket stubs mean nothing when they're not in your hands.

wine corks broken in half

remind me of mistakes

and the floating pieces look like

tiny buoys just trying to appear normal

while deep dark tidal waves take

them to meet the sky.

Remembering the end of summer