A whiff of pipe
a peripheral glimpse
a gentlemanly presence
a shiver and a recognition
heart swells with warmth
refuses to pronounce phantasm.

(Image from personal collection.)

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

12 thoughts on “Spectral”

  1. Sadly I don’t have an aroma I can tap into when I think of my dad. I don’t know what I’d identify if I were fortunate to have a spectral visit. You’ve made me question how I’d know! ! I love, love, love the image, too! Ethereal. Perfect!

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    1. Thanks Debra. Same with my own father, and yet there were many times, especially when I was a teacher, that I felt him by my side, feeding me ideas. (Psychological, I’m sure, but reassuring just the same.)


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