Whirlwind Romance

A rush of emotion dropped a veil over all but the tiny world of the two people in seats 11A and 11B, in a jet plane floating somewhere over the Atlantic, in a still moment in time.

Saturday, July 5, 2014

Haunting Me


Zelda was a baby
No one—not even her parents—
Talk about it

Her mother allows a secret smile
To touch her lips.
Her father purses
His lips.

Zelda looks heavenward
Not a direction she is comfortable with.

Love is for squirrels
She remarks pensively
They know how to bury their precious things

And retrieve them when the mood strikes.

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