By some unintentional thievery,
we had a high desert day today,
way out here on the prairie.
Low wind, cooling, and
astonishingly dry.
A blue, deep as high-altitude
cobalt.
Well, almost.
The woman, still no taller
than a child. The brother,
still kind, still stubborn.
Thinking, sometimes out loud,
the memories coming to each
are sometimes the same ones.
A family working together
in the woods they loved.
This younger brother, so
small, smiling to himself
as he carried kindling.
And the quiet brother,
there too, deep thoughts
widening his hazel eyes.
Maple leaves, still green,
and whirligig seed pods,
pile up now in these
brown paper bags.
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 11:38 PM UTC
By some unintentional thievery,
we had a high desert day today,
way out here on the prairie.
Low wind, cooling, and
astonishingly dry.
A blue, deep as high-altitude
cobalt.
Well, almost.
The woman, still no taller
than a child. The brother,
still kind, still stubborn.
Thinking, sometimes out loud,
the memories coming to each
are sometimes the same ones.
A family working together
in the woods they loved.
This younger brother, so
small, smiling to himself
as he carried kindling.
And the quiet brother,
there too, deep thoughts
widening his hazel eyes.
Maple leaves, still green,
and whirligig seed pods,
pile up now in these
brown paper bags.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
