One Hand Clapping

October Tenth

The voice was sandy with desert
and with youth prickling
as cactus out of the past, self-
assured, easy-- from such distance
as Suspicion Mountains
from a leveled land
I had never known, from a time
I waited to catch up to.
It was my daughter's father
at the end of the line.
With a glance at my love
beside me, stalled in everyday
traffic, on our way to
another homecoming--
All I could do was giggle
with glee and fear and. . .
abandon.
"About time," both men thought.
(I imagine.)  No one knows
the hurt of that hello.  

H.L.J. 10/11/04

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• #6 Comment from krobbie67 
  10/24/04 1:09 PM | Permalink

  Wow! Beautifully sad. :-) ---Robbie
• #5 Comment from deabvt 
  10/17/04 2:50 PM | Permalink

  mumsy, you got a lotta dimensions `bout you. [ course we all know that]
  Lovely.
  V
• #4 Comment from ckays1967 
  10/17/04 1:26 AM | Permalink

  sandy with desert.....hummmmm
  
  this one appeals to the desert in my soul (being raised in AZ and all)
  
  I like the moodiness of it a lot.
  
  
  
• #3 Comment from grandmumsy08Entry Author 
  10/16/04 11:06 AM | Permalink

  Ah, Slack and Vince, my ultimate cheerleaders.  I will abandon this site the least readily, my dear Slacmeister.  And, V--, nah, I wouldn't call it beautiful but rather rather whiney--but it might be a start.
  Love youse guys.
  ~~mumsy
• #2 Comment from deabvt 
  10/16/04 10:31 AM | Permalink

  Beautiful!
  H.L.
  V