Friday, April 16, 2010

Not a 55 Flash Fiction

I held her lightly
I brushed off the cobwebs
Aired out the closets
Opened the windows and doors.

I hugged my child
Put out his fires
And recounted his Nana’s love.

I held her lightly
listening for her 2nd voice
In the heart of my thoughts.

Although last in the line, I lead
an ‘Orleans-style procession
slowly strumming the Unbroken Circle.

In a blue glazed pot
Hand-Spun and stroked with love
Under a deeply etched sign

I set her down lightly.


  1. Fiction is not needed when the heart is overflowing with what IS.

    Dianne, this is beautiful- there is light all around your words and thoughts, here.

  2. There is yet a portion of the past that stays with us until we to pass. then in hope, someone will dance us around a room thinking kindly on all that we were and became.

  3. oh diane, this is beautiful!

  4. Thank you for your comments. I edited the original version, it was written the night we buried my mother. After cleaning her home of 30+ years, and juggling my three boys' weekly crises, and completing the formal funeral and 2nd gravesite memorial with my siblings and I singing "Will the circle be unbroken by and by Lord by and by" with guitars and banjos, and carrying her urn across the lawns to the plot with her name on the tombstone. The last line read "I buried my mother today" I like this version of the poem better, although its a bit more confusing.

  5. awesome 55.
    my 160 is up!

  6. ...this is evokes feeling and wonder about your Mom, you and your family; I wish that you are very proud of this poem. As Titanium wrote there is "light around your words."

  7. it touches me beyond words. i am sorry, i cannot comment here - all i can do is bow my head and let my heart become a prayer.