Under very different circumstances, while in intense grief, I was meditating ...and

…hade a sliver of silver on her cheek. All she could be stomped into the mud by the men in her life, her dreams stolen with the last of her pride, three boys, now just her, merciless years of two jobs, too many nights beaten into submission by a drunk she might have loved for an hour once, hoping that one would be the one who would take care of her. I sit across the table holding her hand, nothing said, nothing that hadn’t already been said, waiting for the sun to rise so she could make it through another day. So real again I smell the scent of perfume she kept in her room.
Fading Light of My Long Life
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Thomas Plummer
Jenine Bsharah Baines
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Aug 30, 2024
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Under very different circumstances, while in intense grief, I was meditating ...and OMG suddenly I could smell my long gone father's pipe tobacco. I smelled it!
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Written by Jenine Bsharah Baines3K Followers
·683 Following
J…Jen…Jeni…Jenine... Proper names are poetry in the raw. (W.H. Auden) Poet, singer, seeker, hippie grandmother gleefully revealing herself
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