There’s a well in the barnyard
not near the back of the house-
for this is a modern house
The well, for me, at least—
a visitor, is a call to memory.
with thick-mortared rough brick—
with a little pitched roof
chance provides you with a magnificent repeat of
the past, for heavens sake do
not let it go by untouched.
not, I say, do not dismiss small events and visuals
that wake you up to former
feelings you’ve lost.
are they, words of an old song; something your
sister said to you once that
smacked you flat?
are who we are, even though we may try to forget.
That’s the foundation—a
strength somehow—not to deny.
matter, rich or poor, or wherever in between, you are
in some measure where and what
you came from and
don’t have to be limited by your past. You can grow
beyond, grateful that bits of
your history is in your cells—
look around; the eyes you have to see are yours
alone. Claim their bounty.
© 2013 Allan Cox, Allan Cox & Associates Inc. All Rights Reserved.
If you enjoy reading this story, you may wish to order WHOA! Are They Glad You’re in Their lives?
available on Amazon Kindle and in print edition too.
• Kindle Edition: WHOA! Are They Glad You're in Their Lives?
• Print Edition: WHOA! Are They Glad You're in Their Lives?
Labels: A Place to Pause, To Ponder, Well