What Remains

Fractured limbs
Bear witness to
The countless hours
Spent dreaming,
Swinging,
Tied to earth
And you.

What remains,
Eternal in my heart,
Grateful
For your silent witness
To childhood.

Echoes

Rivulets of water

ricocheting off new growth

running dow

 stubbed leg.

 

Imperfection

is

my perfection.

 

“You’ll stop shaving one day honey!”

I hear gramma,

gravely, strong, not-so-distant voice

 

Peacefully

Paralyzed

 

Imperfection

is

missing the dead

 

Imperfection

is

living still.

 

Imperfection

is

owning your growth.

 

Imperfection

is

more than ______________.

 

Imperfection is now.

Imperfection was then.

Imperfection is tomorrow.

 

I don’t shave my legs regularly.

Gramma was right.

 

Imperfection

is

Perfection.