| |
|
The reel clacks
and miles of trees from family trips jerk by.
The camera
handheld
aims at distant mountain peaks
covered in summer snow and
closer
to home, lingers on the open
pit mine, the iron ore dumps of our hometown
as if they all might disappear.
Over and over, we rewind those frames
to replay fleeting glimpses of family and
childhood friends and our younger selves
long gone.
Š by CJ Muchhala.
Used with the author's permission.
|
.jpg)
CJ Muchhala lives in Shorewood,Wisconsin near Lake Michigan, but maintains a getaway on the Wisconsin River. Her poetry, fiction, and children's stories have been published in a variety of online and print journals, anthologies, and art/poetry exhibits. When she's not writing, CJ says she enjoys gardening "using the 'benign neglect theory," and baking bread "following the 5-minute method."
 
|
|
Wilda Morris:
Ah, yes! I can identify with this!
Posted 07/03/2022 09:00 AM
|
Michael:
Poignant and so close to home in the lens of our collective memories. As you say, Jayne, "to those of us of a certain age"!!
Posted 07/02/2022 12:36 PM
|
Adriana:
how about home movies from seventy-five years ago? thought we had to toss because so old and no way to look at, but my cousin put them all onto one wonderful DVD
Posted 07/02/2022 12:24 PM
|
Janet Leahy:
This poem helps me rewind in my mind those wonderful car trips of long ago, guided by a paper map the must be folded properly after one has checked the route.
Posted 07/02/2022 09:53 AM
|
Joan Luther:
Memory Lanes.summer snow seems so romantichow we live now (our summer) but theres a feeling in the moments long ago (the snow), or maybe the opposite (snow) how we feel like the winter of our lives
Posted 07/02/2022 08:22 AM
|
Larry Schug:
"younger selves long gone"--words worth contemplation
Posted 07/02/2022 07:17 AM
|
|
|
|
My Cart 
