Bristles

The soft bristles of a brush

That flow through her hair

Remind her of a river

Flowing gently downstream

Like a child crying in out into the night

The softness of the brush

Reminds her of the gentle baby’s skin

The way her hair shines

Like a star in the sky

Like a pearly white tear

Hanging in your eye

The rustle of the bristles

Remind her of the wind

That blows the fall leaves around the house

Like a race around the cottage

Or a chase around the bend

But she knows what the bristles feel like

And she knows how they relate to her life

So how does something so simple,

 So delicate

Relate to yours?

Will there be a story to tell?

Or is it just a memory?

 Or is it something stronger?

Maybe a thought, or a question

 But the simplest of things

Always have a story to tell

Reviews

[Yolanda Alt]

That was so pretty..thank you for sharing..

[John Anderson]

wonderfully written. Very nicely done!