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Don't call me back
consider me dead
if it helps you forget.

I am not coming back
I live in the shadows now
far away from your heart's reach.
I have created walls
you cannot breach.
fields of lavender
as far as the eye can see,
in rows of scented purple
growing insatiable idiosyncrasies,
our minds are a rich, deep soil
and the children of our thoughts
run free,

run free
and light,
run free
and careless,
like a river to the sea.

the heart is programmed
to be broken,
to let in the light,
and the earth in us is woken,
our heart will open,
it will open,

when we take in our first
breath of this heaven.
By day, I followed her around and watched her every move, for she was bigger than life itself. But when the sun went down, she would change into her uniform and go out into the summer evening. Busing it she'd go to the local factory and work on an assembly line. They made confectionery sweets there, and when the boss discarded them for being broken or imperfect, he allowed the staff to take them home to their families. I'd sit at home doing my homework, waiting for her shift to end. Quite often I would be too tired to stay up until midnight and since I had school the next day, I'd go to bed by nine. In the morning I would find a box of pastries called Palmiers in french palmyè, sitting on the kitchen table waiting to be enjoyed.
When the sun came up we would both sit at the kitchen with a tea in hand and talk before I had to go to school. When she hugged me she smelled of spun sugar with a touch of fixative from yesterday's hairspray. All around her was a peaceful presence, as I enjoyed the warmth of her capable strong hands. That was close to sixty years ago and still today if I stand by a bakery counter taking in the scent of cakes and sweets I can still recall my mother and the way she moonlighted just to make ends meet.
Another feather in my cap of feelgood memories from days of yonder. Tune in tomorrow for another story in my lifetime.

The End.
The gales of November sit still on my mind
while I stand to remember the Maritime blues
Twenty-nine souls cradled by the sea
perished as the gales of November blew free

"We're holding our own just like an old shoe "
transmissions and messages lost in debris !
Superior storms blew hard and unfettered
as the gales of November amok, ran the sea

Twenty-nine souls gone astray with the wind  
and the mountains and lakes still echo for thee    
Its a "Lightfoot" connection that sings of your plea    
as the winds of November blow wild and blow free !
"Those we love don't go away they walk beside us every day"

Years may come and years may go
still the memory of her scent still flows  
"I'm praying in an angel, just for you"
she'd say then whisper, "I love you"

Echoes of her love still stir in me  
beneath the silent hush of her carefree
The story of our lives , cache of gold
hidden in my chest, never to grow old

Years may come and years may go
she walks beside me every day.  
Those we love don't go away,  
inside our hearts they always stay.
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