Friday, April 20, 2012

the "hook"

I looked around hesitantly, just to make sure I was really alone.
There was no one in sight, just the small stones in the cemetery,
their solar lights twinkling serenely in the gray light of morning. I
stepped ahead, placing one bare foot in the swirling water, then the
other. The world spun around me, and then just as suddenly as it
started, everything stopped. All was quiet, just a hush over
the gently falling snow. I looked up. Behind me was the cemetery -
only two stones now behind a little worm fence. Just ahead was the
dirt road, cutting through a dense wood. As I peered down it, I
could barely make out my grandmother's log cabin, smoke rising lazily
from its stone chimney. I took a deep breath and climbed out of the
creek. I was back.

1 comment:

  1. I like your writing. I too think about my ancestors and what life was like for them. I grew up on the farm of my 5th great-grandfather. He was the first to buy land in the Twp. and settle.
    Keep writing, you have a gift :-)