Of Loss

Loss of love, full retreat. Keep her memory at your side. Only glance behind to smile, continue living life your way. You will love again.

Loss of life, no regrets. Ones who love you at your grave. Water, forever yours to keep. Go now, and feel no pain.

Morning Market

Inhale the moist, cool air; retrieve the memory of the scent of petunias, sweet corn in a burlap sack, rainwater in a city gutter, wet soil, pine boards, ripe tomatoes.

Sip hot hazelnut coffee; receive access to another memory. Early morning darkness, squeezing a bright citrus fruit, repeating this ritual until the oranges are nothing but peel. Your reward is caffeination, but the day hasn't even begun.

See mist making way for mountains of metal and glass, winding its way upward as it's warmed by sun. Feel the air; chilly, yet warm enough for a Minnesota summer. Hear the rush of vehicles on the highway above you. It's morning, market morning. Calm and intense, full of possibilities.