The old worn down wood and peeling paint
of a door that's been open and closed
and opened again
over years
a silent witness to countless "hello"s, "good-bye"s,
"I've had enough"s, and "can I come back"s.
The daisy that pushed up through the sidewalk cracks.
The rain that trails tears down a pane of glass
and sparkles like glitter
when the light hits it just right,
The swirl of fog across earth warmed roads
that looks like magic in the crisp air of winter mornings
The gray in my hair,
like lighting shooting across a dark sky,
each a talisman of one of life's lemons
handed to me without sugar, a spoon, or a pitcher,
but somehow - lemonade was made
and Your old work boots
still there by the back door
muddy but untouched
a tombstone that echoes of "have a good day" kisses
and "what's for dinner hugs"
replaced by grief that means love was here...
... once...
... and love remains still
amid all this beauty, so often unseen
in overlooked uncommon things
About the Creator
Ellie Hoovs
Domestic Violence Survivor
Mother of 5
Coffee, Wine, And Whiskey Love
Nature Lover
Try anything once
Live out Love
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.