I used to think we were the Little Women

Louisa May Alcott wrote about

Meg was the oldest, responsible and kind

Jo was the middle child, passionate and determined

And I was Amy, stubborn and young.

Now I see each sister in myself and in them.

Seraiah has the drive and intelligence of Jo and her independence, yet the softness of Meg, the soul of Beth. But the beauty of Amy.

Cianna is a romantic like Meg and fiery like Amy, she always knew what she wanted. Like Jo she never gave up and chose what was right for her. Like Beth she finds solace in her home.

And myself..

I still bear the bluntness of Amy, her stubborn realism. But my writing is of Jo’s spirit, free and adventurous, words dancing across the page. I love like Meg does and strive to be like Beth, she appears in my homeliness.

We may not be the girls Alcott wrote of but our stories live on in my script. Our childhood selves saved away in the corners of my mind, waiting to appear on a page, preserved.

One day I’ll write us, our story, our lives


But to me we’ll always be my

Little Women.

In reverie, I plait your name with mine,
Our hearts aligned beneath a silver line.
The stars above, they waltz in velvet skies,
And in your arms, the world in silence lies.
A whispered breath dissolves the air we know,
Time slips away, as moments softly glow.

Like driftwood, carried by the moonlit sea,
The waves embrace our fragile destiny.
Beneath the tides, where silent dreams unfold,
A fleeting warmth amidst the ocean’s cold.
Yet still, within your gaze, I drift, serene,
A quiet light within the vast unseen.

We are clouds
individual
and collective by nature
changeless-ever-changing
drifting into our eyes
and across our minds

We cannot live in
photos or paintings--
inspiring, but hanging
dormant like billboards
and traffic signs

Dark clouds awaken
when angry
fire and fury
torrents of rain
hail damaging

Then Zephyr comes
to appease their anger
  --god’s of the sky--
peace treaties pending

She often drifts in like
an angel
ahead of a storm front--
thunder and lightning her silhouette--
bringing in less
threatening clouds to
comfort us when storms
leave us angry cold and wet

At times even darker
clouds hang ominously
and high winds are surely threatening war--
then out the blue
allies flank our enemy
blowing away
the fiery vaporous Thor

We float into wintertime
into its storyline
Drifting in and out of space
and time through seasons
of wind hail rain or shine
(essence of
our connected
and interconnected minds)

Billowing Cumulonimbus
Dark Nimbostratus
Thin Sirius basking in sunshine
Shapeless grey clouds of snow
Cold drizzle reigns

Funnel clouds
cyclone
monsoon
hurricane
typhoon
bursting through
atmospheric membrane

We can be moody
boasting large volumes
but revealing far-less mass

Passively aggressive
boasting less volume
but revealing a lot of mass

We are clouds
changeless-ever-changing
drifting into our eyes
and across our minds