The memory can be of photographs of the minds eye. So is this one.
~What A Sad Lonely Day~
I never knew how much I cared about my friends until I got up one day and looked out the door
as I thought I heard a distant, lonesome, faint, distant calling outside my door.
When I looked outside all I saw was a graveyard, filled with stones,
cold harsh stones that were covered with the names of my friends, those that had been.
It was a sad day.
It was a lonely day.
I missed my friends.
(Self-published. Please contact author directly to order.)
Enter the pages of diaspora in quiet introspection. Bathe your thoughts with subtle humor; synchronize your spirit-sense with history-in-heat; fall headlong with eyes wide open into
Barbara Sue,
aka Grandma Baba
Regis