Squirrel chaser

September 4, 2014September 4, 2014 ~ Tara R. ~ 9 Comments

She stands at my knee, prancing excitedly like a Lipizzaner on parade. Trying to speak, all she gets out is “gruff, grrrrrufff, gruffff.” I swear she is smiling at me, laughing because I don’t get her joke. I imagine it’s something like, “hurry, Timmy has fallen down the well. Again!” What she’s really asking is … Continue reading Squirrel chaser

Toy box

September 3, 2014September 5, 2014 ~ Tara R. ~ 14 Comments

Years pass too quickly Tiny blocks and wooden tops Childhood mementos Paint fades, memories ne’er will Kept safe in a mother’s heart

From little acorns

September 3, 2014June 27, 2015 ~ Tara R. ~ 13 Comments

It isn’t for purely aesthetic reasons that cold iron is used to adorn funeral plots. Red as rust, blood has the taste and tang of hematite, the life force of earth. Scrolls of wrought iron circle family plots, and are forged into intricate gates and mausoleum entries. Folklore spins tales of iron crosses, and fleur-de-lis being … Continue reading From little acorns

Sister friend

September 1, 2014September 2, 2014 ~ Tara R. ~ 11 Comments

“You know I’m right,” Libby said, speaking more to her glass of wine than the woman sitting across from her. “As much as I hate to be.” Meredith, her jaws clenched, wanted to argue with her friend, but couldn’t. The two women had been through a lot together. Classmates and best friends since middle school, … Continue reading Sister friend

Elemenopee

August 31, 2014January 6, 2015 ~ Tara R. ~ 3 Comments

With this post, I have successfully completed August's National Blog Posting Month. The theme for the month was "Mnemonic," which is "a device used to help remember something." What it made me remember is that I don't like mnemonics, or having to follow rules. Even self-imposed rules. Throughout the week, Monday to Saturday, I followed my … Continue reading Elemenopee

Better days

August 30, 2014 ~ Tara R. ~ 6 Comments

True is it that we have seen better days. Dark are the hours as our time draws nigh. Memories wane, bones rattle, blind eyes glaze, The glory of our youth belie. Mired amongst the coppice, Where the earth doth strive to reclaim, Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, There’s no one ‘cept self to blame.