I was devastated
I didn’t move from my bed
I watched the news and shook my head
The city that I loved lay in waste

Though time has passed
I can still recall those feelings of dread
And while I have since returned to embrace her
I simply can’t believe it’s been five years since the storm

It feels like it was yesterday
Since I was there as fresh newlywed
Since I prayed for her to hold on
Since I was there last

Still, daily daydreams take me back
Where I walk the streets
Smell the shockingly distinct smells
Of that one city, the city I love….

New Orleans, Louisiana

{New Orleans: A Set on Flickr}

Both of the windows are down
Allowing my hair to be windblown
It is then the fantasies swirl with my locks

* * *

Thoughts of a time
When cigarettes
parted lips
worry free
without question
A time
when laughter
escaped
the open window
only
to come back
quickly.

* * *

The radio blares
as a familiar song comes on
My eyes are fixed
ahead
Where curves unfold
easily taken
allowing
sights to be seen
The rich blue skies
the puffy white clouds
the abundant green pastures
the cared for rusted roof
It’s in that moment—
in my head
the lyrics absorbed once more
wishes desperately sighed
dreams held captive
are wishing for release
As the song ends
I am home

Can you believe it’s been a year since you last donned the crisp white shirt?
Out on Mondays, in on Saturdays; it was a schedule we seemingly got used to
Now it’s time to train ourselves for this agenda once more
Seeing you in the shirt, though, is definitely a thing I love
Epaulets, wings, your flight kit in tow;  you are the pilot who flies circles around my heart, &
Nothing can top that feeling, in the depths of my belly, when you return to me
That being said, I’ll always be here waiting for you to come home

———————-

I incorporated “Consent” into my writing,  for 100 Words, a little differently this time.   I was inspired to do it like this because when Michael talked to the chief pilot about taking on this new job he told him that he’d have to talk to me about it before taking it.  I—of course—gave him my wholehearted consent.  I’m excited about Michael’s new job.  I wish him the best, vowing to always be waiting in the wings, beaming with pride.     This past year’s been difficult, but it’s also been a blessing.    I love you, Michael.  Full throttle, baby.

100 Words

There’s this hill in our backyard.  In my daydreams the hill is bursting with a fiery wildflower glow.  I pick the bounty, arrange, and display them in one of the three crystal vases I own.   The vases sit on the mantle, the middle of the kitchen table, and on my night stand.  They are reminders of the handpicked beauty outside my door.

In reality our backyard hill contains an abundance of a different type of wildflower.   It doesn’t glow in majestic color.  I can’t pick anything.  They’ll never go in one of my three crystal vases.  But, they are beautiful.  Through the seasons I watch the changing of the hill.  I go out there weekly and capture this natural beauty.

A couple days ago, I awoke to these beautiful beaded spectacles that had been created on our hill.   The coffee wasn’t made, and the sleep was barely out of my eyes.  I thought of nothing else than to grab my camera and flee out the back door, to the hill’s edge.

Each one was different.

Each one held it’s own wonder.

Each one reminded me that I don’t need a hill filled with colorful flowers to pick from, for the earth is all the vase I need.