Bio Note: I am learning to let go. It seems to be a lesson that I have needed to learn over and over. I am moving from the beautiful custom, post and beam home I designed with my late husband to a fifty-five and over community. No longer having to take care of 25 acres and not hiring someone to plow a mile long driveway doesn't sound so bad though, does it? LOL. My second poetry book, Torohill will be released next month from Deerbrook Editions.
Leaf shadows shimmer across walls in slanted November light. Butternut fronds rain to the ground. Crows waddle and bob like undertakers under Pin oaks. Tomorrow would have been our fourteenth anniversary. Ironically, we got together on the Day of the Dead. Next week I’m selling our home. How I fought moving here, now I never want to leave. I was so stupid. I’ve saved your favorite gig shirts to be hung in the next so-called husband’s closet. A coyote announces her three, tiny barks followed by ghostly howls. Her pack waits on Schunemunk Mountain for her signal to barrel down and chase their prey. Tonight for the first time I’m frightened to walk Phoebe in the dark. I hurry inside and begin to pack.
©2022 Donna Reis
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