~ Jacqueline ~

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I remember when I first brought you home. We shared a glass of water and a comfortable silence. I explained the story of each rock and gem I laid before you. The kitchen seemed to be your favorite room at the apartment with vaulted ceilings across from the tiny art gallery and the duck pin bowling place in Mt. Jackson. I remember how regal you looked in the moonlight in the seedling room of the greenhouse in Quicksburg. I remember how badly sunburned you got passing through the fields of sunflowers in Nebraska, and how worried I was that I might have lost you by the time we were leaving Utah. You came back to life in the high desert of Nevada. So did I.

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About SIDEWAYS EIGHT

Being heard, stirred, and perhaps cured by life's many hidden images and the written-spoken word.
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