Ever had one of those days? Decidedly moody, unable to focus, liable to shed tears at any moment. It started as I was driving in to work. By lunch break, I had a poem scribbled on the back of a museum map in my pocket. By afternoon break, I had texted my children just to tell them I missed their dad. Lovely souls that they are, they reached back immediately with cyber hugs. (thanks, kids!) So here’s the poem – no title came with it.
What can I do?
                — it’s October
the sumac is red and my poor, backward head
is flooding nostalgia like liquid amber.Â
If I picked up guitar and a blues-country twang
               — and sang
it’d be you in the sunshine
white overalls, your shirt as blue as your eyes
walking me home from school
sweet, musky sweat
your warm, solid arm
the newness of the world in the flash of your smile
I struggle to sound sincere in a comment box…..My bad…everything comes out maudlin or plain insensitive…Best not to try.
But I do think the poem is lovely, anyone who read it would hope someone might feel that way about them,…..and I hope you feel better tomorrow..
oh my dear, you do turn on the waterworks, don’t you? Along with another cyber hug, you get a cyber wet shoulder. Thank you for sharing the beauty and truth of your heart.
scillagrace 
Here’s another cyber hug! 0000
Thanks, Susan!
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The present is all you have …. sending another Cyber hug (((Priscilla)))
My comment sounds harsh but I know you know what I mean 🙂
I do. 🙂
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You are right, of course. Memory is a difficult gift. Thanks, dear Helen!
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I struggle to sound sincere in a comment box…..My bad…everything comes out maudlin or plain insensitive…Best not to try.
But I do think the poem is lovely, anyone who read it would hope someone might feel that way about them,…..and I hope you feel better tomorrow..
I do appreciate your honesty…it is most sincere. And, as always, your visits!
oh my dear, you do turn on the waterworks, don’t you? Along with another cyber hug, you get a cyber wet shoulder. Thank you for sharing the beauty and truth of your heart.
Every once in a while, I turn into our mother and enjoy a good, Irish keening. Releases tension, doesn’t it? I hope you feel cleansed, in a way. I do.
beautiful poem Priscilla
Thanks, Pam! Thanks for stopping by to comment!
Yes! I’ve had those kind of days. So sad. Sending cyber hugs too!
Hugs received with gratitude!