Last Ride with Mom

Winding between the foothills, the road finds it's way to the last spot on a short trip in time.  The last curve yields to the view of a small house, blue and trimmed with lake rocks.  Passing back through the time in the mind, the site was unfinished and begging for the attention of a meticulous dweller.  The memory triggers thoughts of a less glamorous time, a time when thoughts are fleeting and messages lost in translation.  This place, this untimley place, leaves a ghostly flair of forgotten memories, of future forgotten moments and all the moments that pass.  A different time in the rotation of the Earth, a moment frozen and trapped in the corner of the brain becomes once again real.  As though it snapped back like a rubber band, the thought of her in the car fed the consciousness and opened the pathway to vivid memories. Joyless memories haunt the soul, yet turn to joy as the turn signal clicks.  

White Horses

White streaks run in unison through the green grass in Chatham.  Unaware of their 

muscular beauty and strength, 

they turn their heads and splash their tales 

as the wind gathers their manes 

to one side then the other. 

Free and unemcumbered by 

earthly desires, jealousies, or unkept promises, 

they are just themselves. 

A devotedness to gleeful play is indicated by their lively gait.  

Togetherness looks so delightful!  

Lovely white horses live and play 

at Chatham Hall School 

in beautiful, 

bucolic 

Chatham, VA.