saturday was a wedding.
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sunday was a funeral after a death on thursday.
she was 87, married 64 years when she buried her husband last fall,
burying her heart with him,
choosing her casket ahead of her time,
the palest of barely there baby girl pinks.
no somber goodbye colors for her.
she was saying hello, i think.
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i wish for saturday's bride such a love.
64 years.
my god, what a thing.
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the cemetery was hot with july and few breezes,
and my drive home was sprinkled with raindrops,
with the smell of that rain against hot asphalt,
the way rain smells in the summer, when it is just a touch on your shoulder,
when you quick turn around look behind you and it's not there,
just its perfume hanging in the air.
just a ghost of rain.
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we had that ghost of rain on saturday, and that smell, exactly the way you describe it. it's been so long i'd almost forgotten it.
ReplyDeleteyes, for the bride, 64 years. a beautiful wish.
oh so true ..the rain and the love ..touching
ReplyDeletelove and rain's soft-breathing ghost. beautiful.
ReplyDeletehow blessed the bride. the new one, and the old one too.
There it is, all of it. 87, 64, Sunday, Saturday; all tiny points on a circle. You see beyond the points into the center of it. We meet, we sleep, we meet again; again; again...
ReplyDeleteI love your posts-so thought provoking. 64 years is such a long time and a wonderful wish for a new and hopefully long lasting happy marriage.
ReplyDeletei can barely swallow,
ReplyDeletethese words put together so stunning beautiful
sort of took my breath away.
that doesn't happen much anymore
and i thank you:):):)
-Jennifer
Hope and sadness wrapped up in a single weekend. I am clinging to hope today and am grateful for this reminder from you.
ReplyDeleteSo evocative and lovely. 64 years is a real prize.
ReplyDeleteshe joined him finally in her palest of pink casket. i am sure she rejoyced in that reunion. loved the whole thing. i always do.
ReplyDeletei await the smell of rain. it's been a while.
in fondest, tilda
I don't know how you do it...your writing is magic...and awakens the senses...and brings the world to life.
ReplyDeleteSo sorry for your loss.
ReplyDelete