SuziCate's Musings

Posts tagged ‘past’


Time begins to rust through broken windows and dreams of forgotten things.

Time begins to rust
through broken windows and dreams
of forgotten things.


Doing It Over

One step at a time

I follow yesterday’s stairs

Still I wind up here


A cruel world it is

to be thrown beneath the ground,

forgotten by time.

A name on a slab,

Does anyone remember

Mamie lived here, too?

No Longer A Flying Toy

I was but a small regret

of a lifetime long ago

a sunny kite snared

in gnarly limbs

angry winds whipped and battered

pattern torn from frame

twisted string trailed a tail

of purple ribbons flapping in the sky

bitter gusts break ties and freedom soars

above the birds nests and with the stars

so close I smell the talc of heaven itself

and taste God’s tears before they fall to earth

He tells me I am no regret

This Old House

From the livestock to the gardens and fields of slumbered hay,

they were faced with more work than given hours in each day.

This old house has felt the footsteps of weary trodden men

who rested but a bit to get up and head to the fields again.

It is the place where women rocked their dreams into night,

only to rise when the rooster crowed in early morning light.

Ceilings echo screams of endless labor and laughter of life.

This home is no stranger to birth, death, love, joy, and strife.

Multiple generational life has absorbed within it’s walls,

as families of children walked away to follow their calls.

Changing times, they struggled to keep the farm in pace.

My father was the last child born at the old home place.

Circumstances of time and weather exercised it’s toll

on sore backs, blistered fingers and exhausted souls.

The farm has turned into a respite, a place to convene,

augmenting freedom and possibility; a place to dream.

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