JillTerry.com » changes

Subtle Slips

Jill — Thu, 21 Jan 2010 19:56:40 +0000

I feel him pulling
Moving away
Gently he slips
In directions
Opposite me

Testing his wings
Determined and courageous
The look in his eyes
Reveals fear of
Full flight

No longer
My little boy
Always my baby

No matter how
Far from me
The universe
Takes him

Of typical concern
My own human flaws
Hoping my guidance
Has properly prepared him

In this silence

Jill — Sat, 03 Oct 2009 16:04:59 +0000

Too many used to be’s
Faded away with
Time

Not enough now’s
To sustain us
Into tomorrow

Image – Wings of dust

BFF

Jill — Sat, 29 Nov 2008 14:47:44 +0000

I missed her birthday; first time in thirty-seven years. I wonder if she can forgive me. I wonder if she would understand if I were to tell her that while I thought of her, I simply hadn’t the will to get out of bed, go out into the world, into the store and read through a plethora of cards, when I had no sentiment in me; blinded by my own darkness, searching for the light; lost in an abyss of loneliness and angst, trying to wrap my head around truth, for all the lies.

An endless stream of bittersweet lies…

I can see clearly now, for the fog has lifted; and while I still feel bad for not reaching out on her day, I cannot help but wonder why we do it. Nine years since we’ve seen each other and probably twenty since I knew what was in her head, in her heart.

Inseparable once upon a time, drifted apart on the current of life, landing on opposite shores. I wonder what trials and tribulations she’s faced in hers, if they in any way match my own. Somehow I doubt it, though I’m probably wrong. We were similar creatures growing up; living on opposite sides of the tracks, but on the same street nonetheless. But we lost something along the way and though we’ve talked over the years, it seems meaningless, forced and incredibly contrived; stuck in the past, when we are no longer those girls, but women who have yet to be properly introduced.

Prisoner of the fall

Jill — Sun, 12 Oct 2008 04:00:27 +0000

A small little town, quaint in fact, once she actually ventured in and took the time to look around; but still, it felt like a temporary stop on her way to nowhere. The trees bursting in full fall regalia, before the barren grey of winter sets in, and for this natural wonder in all its simplicity, she found herself grateful.

She turned the corner and the heavenly scent of fresh roasted beans filled her senses, lightened her mood; led her to café Edmond, the only one in town. She walked in and the aroma of fresh brew mingled with wood smoke from the fireplace momentarily warmed her soul. She was greeted with smiles and friendly nods as she made her way through to the counter, where she hesitantly ordered a quad-shot latte, relieved when the gentleman responded, “take a seat, we’ll have it right up.”

She went back outside and picked a table in the sun; the waiter arrived a few minutes later with a steaming ceramic mug. She put down her bag, took a soothing drink, pulled out her laptop and began to write…