preamble to a trip back to Daniel Boone's fort . . . and come to think of it a woman that would leave the protection of hearth and home to brave the wilds . . . she must be a little crazy
Well, I read the piece - I thought about what I know of you - the two contradicted - I skimmed the reviews, and they seemed to agree more with what I know of you than what I saw. For the life of me, it may be the mood that I have been in of late - but I saw this as a suicide piece. As somebody that looked as if they were going about their normal lives in a normal manner, suddenly disappears... having loosed themselves to the cool still flow, perhaps as Ophelia did in Hamlet. Yes, I definitely saw something different here - perhaps I need to get out of left field.
Oh, oh, oh........... this gave me a strong dose of goosebumps. What a picture, age-old, of a woman's wresting of a tiny moment for her own inner peace.
A gentle soothing peep into a past life - not an unhappy one, not a stern one, but a sameness as in every time .. and then, at the end, a moment for self, a brief escape, a washing away of how it is, a freedom perhaps ..
I'd love to keep this piece, sew it in cross stitch and have it hanging on a wall ..
to the Lost Boys
I am no Wendy;
but my voice brings you back to me.
And you sit around my feet,
anxious for a story
or a kiss.
Listening to my words
spinning adventures,
like so much g.. more..