sweet scent of childhood
sweet scent of childhood
pink powder-puff luxury
feathers on my face
* * *
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 9 January 2015
Photo credit: Mimosa Blossoms, http://www.hiltonpond.org
sweet scent of childhood
pink powder-puff luxury
feathers on my face
* * *
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 9 January 2015
Photo credit: Mimosa Blossoms, http://www.hiltonpond.org
Christmas pictures from Longwood. Here they are! We got there about 4:15pm, early enough to miss the rush. Here’s what we saw as we walked toward the conservatory.
We stopped for a quick supper in the café. Read the rest of this entry »
I’ve been listening to Christmas music and thinking about you these days. Remembering what it was like to sing together as a family during the Christmas season, with you at the piano leading us. We stood behind you, looking over your shoulder or singing from memory Read the rest of this entry »
This story is from a book I wrote in the 1990s. It’s my most vivid childhood memory of Christmas.
I couldn’t forget the look on my mother’s face when I opened my Christmas present from my grandfather. I was about 12 years old. My mother’s father lived in California; we now lived in Georgia. Gifts and letters had replaced lively visits to his apartment. Read the rest of this entry »
It’s Christmas Eve, 1998. I’m sitting in a chair in our living room, facing our stereo speakers. Tears stream down my face. I’m listening to the annual live broadcast Read the rest of this entry »
She remembers me
From long ago
A stranger, yet a friend
She says she was there
The day the war ended.
I don’t remember her. Read the rest of this entry »
I’m ready to revisit this haiku+poetry. It took a while….
carolina wren
peers into old beer bottle –
empty still
* * *
searching for myself
lost somewhere out there
in your eyes your smile
your listening ear
your approval your tenderness
your dream for me Read the rest of this entry »
On October 31, death put a punctuation point at the end of Bill Supplee’s earth-life. A full stop, like coming to the end of a book.
Bill gave me something to live for. Read the rest of this entry »