AKA "The Writing Woman"
I see the tulips in our yard And I remember When I used to be excited about spring Spring meant summer was near And summer meant time outside with you Days frolicking in the sun Evenings lounging in the sultry heat out in our yard Me swatting mosquitoes You not Smells and sounds of summer…
Why does it hit so hard sometimes? I move along, I feel myself starting to heal – just a little, and then I’m blindsided with a grief so fresh it feels like he died yesterday. It’s 8 and ½ months today. My heart was shattered on an August Sunday nearly nine months ago. Sometimes it…