Family | Dancing Echoes

March 21, 2021
by Dancing Echoes 2 Comments

Future

Now the oldest generation
I hear the umpire call
“Batter up”

In response to patrick Jennings Pic and a Word Challenge #260: Future

October 15, 2020
by Dancing Echoes 4 Comments

Locked

Inside looking out
Many phases of the moon
Her last loving hug

Locked in with her memories
Grandma sheds a single tear

Time is most priceless possession to the elderly. So to treat them as if their time is “less than” or to prolong taking precious time away from loved ones is intolerably cruel. Instead of the elderly ”taking one for the team” let’s work together so that families can reunite and be whole again.

Wear a mask, socially distance, wash your hands. Let’s beat this thing before it is too late for your loved ones.

August 3, 2020
by Dancing Echoes 8 Comments

Loss

For certain memories
time stands still
and for a moment
the pain is searingly fresh
The loss makes you realize
what matters most
An aching reminder
of what it means
to truly love

In response to Patrick Jennings Pic and a Word Challenge #242: Time

September 21, 2019
by Dancing Echoes 6 Comments

Mothers

A uniting force
Keeping mewlings safe and sound
Neighborhood mothers

While I was lucky to have been raised by an incredible mother, I was also privileged to have grown up in a neighborhood of warrior mothers. I had a sense of a sound safety net. That I would never go hungry. My skinned knee would be immediately doused in Bactine in front of whichever house I crashed my bike. A snow day meant making the rounds of homes for hot chocolate in between hours of sledding or skating. Some mother was always looking out for me -or relaying inappropriate behavior if warranted. Born during the depression, that generation of mothers had a rough childhood so they made sure we didn’t. Almost all the warrior mothers of my childhood are gone now as that generation fades into fond memories.

In response to Patrick Jennings Pic and a Word Challenge: Mothers.

July 28, 2019
by Dancing Echoes 5 Comments

Father

You and I always seemed to be
On the opposite sides of a bridge
Neither able to cross without it swinging wildly
Tension thick as humid gulf air
Impatience and disappointment our love language

You and I alike in so many ways
So sensitive we each tried to bite first
Both with a stubborn shell of protection
Curiosity for life’s most enigmatic questions our common ground
With expectations released, forgiveness our final passage

In response to Patrick Jennings Pic and a Word Challenge #197: Fathers