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So much for a gift of surprise,
Mother’s gift was a doll that cries.
My friends are coming, all with presents,
Today's my birthday and no French lesson.
Mother said I could stay up real late
And I don't have to kiss the boy I hate.
Almost everybody's coming and we'll have fun,
'Course, it’s too bad that Daddy can’t come.
Corey stared out of the window at the rain. Mommy said the weatherman promised it to stop in the morning but it’s almost noon and it still hadn't stopped. She didn't feel all that different being ten years old. It was practically a decade. It was so much fun last week when she helped Daddy pack for his business trip. She couldn't understand why it had to be on her birthday. It wasn't fair. Corey kept crossing her fingers and prayed that Mommy and Daddy wouldn't fight like they usually did. The subject was always money, money, money. Daddy must be working hard or he wouldn't be away so much. Mommy just liked to scream a lot -- like when her room was messy and she had to clean up. Her party dress lay stretched out on the bed, light and dark pink stripes keeping each other company on its ruffled surface. Only Daddy wouldn't see her in it at all. By tomorrow, she'd be back in school wearing her jeans. Maybe she'd just stay here and not go to the party at all. Who cares, anyway.
Downstairs, (...)
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Things I thought to be important
Are like nothing without you.
The love I lost fills me with torment,
Now I’m alone, sad and blue.
I own a phone that doesn’t ring,
My four gray walls are echoing.
These empty days turn into nights,
This tunnel has no end in sight.
I get out of my chair
To go downstairs
To find myself staring
At the note you left there.
I have a door that never opens
But I can’t stop praying and I won’t stop hoping.
I don’t have a choice, I love you so much:
I miss the sound of your voice and the soft of your touch.
Eva patiently waited for her stepbrother, Robert, to end his drone about the money he was to get from the will – something about opening a business with other people’s money and having the bank foreclose on some recalcitrant properties. It didn’t seem fair that Robert would inherit everything except the contents of the old house, but after all, she had to remind herself that she qualified only as a stepdaughter. Dad’s passing did not seem like losing someone she loved, but rather gaining a lump in her heart that wouldn’t go away.
She daydreamed about the wonderful talks she and dad shared. About when Mom was alive, about the hard days of her illness and about her passing. Robert had been able to go to college, even if she had not. It wasn’t so bad being a vetinary doctors's assistant, since she always loved animals. If only she could finish her schooling and become a vet herself. But she knew it was an impossible dream with no funds to finance her education.
Robert’s smile turned into a smirk as he offered his opinion on what she could do with the furniture left in the house. Eve couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to buy these old, run-down pieces, but Robert’s suggestion of a one price sale to a local second hand shop would have to do. Then Robert’s brow furrowed with annoyance as he ranted on about the missing stock portfolio belonging to her dad. There was no specific mention of it in the will and Robert wanted to (...)
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Mexican troubadour, preserver of song,
Handed-down stories of a love gone wrong.
Strings and reeds are happy, yet sad,
They sing of a woman, her man gone bad.
Down its musical path
They surely will draw you,
Bitter tears sting your eyes,
Your life placed before you.
Once in a garden there was a tile in relief,
On its surface I saw a painted leaf.
I thought, "That artist really painted with guile;
He tried to fool me with his flamboyant style.
A shape that's drawn so perfectly symmetrical,
To exist in nature would be heretical.
A pink like that has never been seen -
Or peachy-wine tones on that lavender-green!".
While thinking my thoughts, (I had more to say)
A breeze came along and blew it away.
We met in the springtime, you melted my heart.
The love that we planted was strong from the start.
We blossomed in summer, you made my life rich,
The days without number, the flame of love lit.
In autumn an Angel came out of the night
He took you to heaven and out of my life..
I cry out your name when mem’ries come ‘round,
As autumn’s first leaf slowly drifts to the ground.
I didn’t know I loved you so until you went away.
I didn’t say, “I love you," until that final day.
The music that was you I only noticed when it stopped.
(...)
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