This is the place that links my life. My parents, myself, my children – all inhabited this place through infancy, child adventures, teen discoveries, maturing adulthood. This sparkling lake ringed by pines and birch and spruce and ash and beech is drenched in ancestral and personal history. I see my parents at the helm of a motorboat, wind baring their faces, radiant with the freedom of wind and water and speed, head lifted in laughter or song. Earlier versions of me run caped in a blanket, clamber over rooftops, race toads in a sand pile, vomit a first booze overload, conceive a child, sing over Mom and Dad’s graveyard memorial under the trees. Past lives inhabit every molecule of air, dragonflies, red squirrels, the sparkle of sun on wave. Longing takes my breath away. Lingering presence returns breath deep into my soul. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 303: 141 words, TOTAL = 49,886; 10,114 remaining
4 Comments
Pen
6/26/2020 05:44:58 pm
Yes, me too. Pure magic. Love you, cousin. Thx for this.
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Carl Bromwich
6/26/2020 08:52:53 pm
Nice! I know the feeling.
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Robin
6/26/2020 10:02:47 pm
😊 thanks for the notes everyone
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Susan Stout
6/27/2020 02:31:39 pm
Your writing consistently moves me so very deeply.
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AuthorRobin Clifford Wood is an award-winning author, poet, and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her children, grandchildren, and granddogs. Archives
October 2024
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